Good Times, For A Change
by theRebelSong
Summary: When recent Billionaire, Christian Grey, begins to receive violent death threats, he is encouraged by Elena to hire a bodyguard to keep him safe until the sender is caught. Will their relationship remain strictly professional or will they both acknowledge the odd connection they appear to have? Slash/gay story, Grey/Taylor. This is not an Ana/Grey story.
1. Chapter 1

**WARNING; Rated M for future m/m and adult themes, this is not going to be a CG/Ana fic. It will be a CG/Taylor.**

 **Chapter 1;**

"You didn't list your sexual orientation."

"I'm a Marine."

" _So_...?"

"Don't ask, don't tell."

Christian rose an eyebrow at the man sat across from him, sitting with his arms crossed over his chest as though he didn't want to be in Christian's office, being interviewed for the role of Close Protection Officer for the rising entrepreneur. Since he moved into Escala, Christian had been receiving more and more threats on his life. Elena explained that that was natural given his zero-to-billionaire status but it didn't make Christian feel any more at ease. It had been his old Dom's suggestion that he seek out a bodyguard; apparently old habits died hard and she still felt the need to look out for him like any good dom should.

Stoic and quiet, the guy before him had barely moved since he'd sat down, only nodding that he wanted a glass of water when offered by that new PA lady at the reception. What was her name again? Janet? Andrea? Angela? Whoever. She was already annoying.

Looking at the paperwork before him, Christian noticed this guy hadn't given much away on his CV, in fact it was the vaguest out of the three potential candidates which Welch had forwarded him on request. As irritating as it was to know nothing about the candidate, Christian found that to be oddly all the more captivating and so far Mr Taylor had been in his office the longest out of the three possibilities.

He was born in Detroit like Christian which immediately sparked his attention. The man was seven years older than Christian and had been in active service since he was eighteen. He'd listed prior employment before the military, too, which interested Christian; they appeared to have a shared interest.

"You like cars?"

"Yes sir," this Taylor guy nodded, a flicker of a smile appearing in the far left side of his thin lips, "I hoped to go into manufacturing like my father but I never got a chance before the city started declining."

"So you washed cars?"

"It paid for food; we lost everything when dad lost his job at the factory." Taylor explained, scratching a nasty looking cut down his face. He'd been through the wars, Welch had warned Christian, and as a potential employee Christian was told not to expect him looking as fresh as the other two candidates, both former FBI.

Apparently Taylor's plane from Somalia had landed about two hours ago in Portland, of all fucking places. It explained the horrid male sweat smell and crinkled suit. He was a handsome man however, rugged looking with a heavy growth of golden stumble on his sunburnt face and an outgrown buzzcut up top. After a shower and a shave, Christian could envision the big man standing by his side protecting him. But his attitude so far had been seriously shit; he looked as though he felt himself above Christian and GEH which was irritating as hell.

"Cars are a hobby of mine too," Christian nodded, "Engines in general actually. I'm looking to purchase a boat just shortly," he said, looking into Taylor's dark blue eyes, "What's your favourite car?"

"DB5 Aston Martin."

"Bond's car," Christian said with another nod, "A classic. I was expecting a mustang or a dodge but no, an Aston. Good choice."

"Bond fan?" Taylor asked next, the first question Christian had received from Taylor. The other two potential security officers had asked about current security protocol, what Christian wanted from a security officer, if live in accommodation was an option or not. Jason Taylor seemed content to shoot the breeze like some regular jo blogs.

Oddly enough, Christian liked this better; Taylor seemed relatively laid back. Arguably that could in fact be due to his jetlag but it certainly made Christian feel at ease before the big man. All these death threats had been playing havoc with his mental health recently; it felt like years since he'd had a good night's sleep. Even when his subs serviced him, he just couldn't run from the nightmares of his past and the potential future.

"Doesn't everyone love bond movies?" Christian countered and saw the left side of Taylor's mouth twitch once more, threatening a smile, "Suits, fast cars and easy women. Isn't that the dream?"

"To some," Taylor agreed, "What other movies do you like?"

"Why the interest in _my_ personal life?" Christian observed, "Can I remind you this is supposed to be a job interview and not a date, Mr Taylor?"

"That's Taylor to you. Or Jason. No one calls me ' _Mr Taylor_ '. Not unless they want their teeth to last them for a few more decades," Taylor said suddenly, his aggressive tone catching Christian off guard. "And I want to be sure I'm not going to be working for a creep with a secret obsession with _Animals Do The Funniest Thing_. I hate that show. I have a four year old daughter; believe me that watching a hamster sneeze is only funny the first time around," Taylor nodded, sitting forward now with a full blown smug smirk, lopsided to the left side.

Christian rose an eyebrow at the sudden shift from stoic and quiet to arrogant and obnoxious.

"I know what you're thinking; presumptuous of me to assume you'll pick me as your CPO and not Bill Baker and Oliver Costello from the FBI -that's right, I know who you interviewed before me. Let me give you the facts; I've already been in GEH. I walked in here an hour ago wearing a boiler suit, telling your door guy I was coming to check the electrics. I flashed him my organ donor card as 'ID'."

Christian nearly choked on his coffee as Taylor pulled out an organ donor card and flashed it like an ID badge to demonstrate, his large fingers covering the actual details but leaving the photograph in total view.

"Next I flirted with your office ladies while I was signing myself into the building which gave me a chance to skim previous names and decipher who was most likely to be the other candidates-"

"Now you are bullshitting. Welch told you I was meeting Baker and Costello. Fact. I don't believe you."

"Phone reception. _Christian White_ signed into the building less than an hour ago and left twenty minutes after," Taylor challenged, his confidence making Christian uneasy. How the fuck had the doorman let this bastard in?!

"I knew you wouldn't believe me so check your top drawer," Taylor challenged then, sitting back in his chair and crossing his arms against his broad chest.

Christian glared and slowly opened the drawer to his left, reminding himself to buy WD40 to lube up the squeak. There was a note folded over which hadn't been in there twenty minutes ago, he was sure, because he'd looked in that very drawer for his hand sanitiser before he'd gone to the bathroom. Slowly, he pulled it out and shook his head, "This was you?"

Taylor winked, looking incredibly pleased with himself suddenly as Christian unfolded the paper and laughed;

 _'Hi Friend :-).'_

Taylor's handwritting was messy and childish but it was as clear as day what he'd written.

"So you broke into my office as well as my building," Christian mumbled, shaking his head in disbelief, "I should have you arrested for this stunt, _Mr Taylor."_

Taylor glared; he really really really didn't seem to like being Mister-ed. Christian couldn't help but smirk at his irritation.

"I literally told that pretty blonde at reception that you'd requested someone to check your computer wires," Taylor said proudly, "You went to the bathroom and I was in and out before you'd come back. In fact," he slowly pulled out one of the company's pencils with the word 'Grey' written at the bottom, "I borrowed this to do it."

"I can't believe how easily you broke in," Christian mumbled, slumping back and rubbing the migraine which had been burrowing a hole in his mind for what seemed like an endless period of time, "Honestly. I can't believe you were even in my office too. If you'd been one of those crazy freaks threatening my life…"

He watched Taylor twiddling the pencil then chewing the end, still looking incredibly pleased with himself, "So when do I start, _Boss_?"


	2. Chapter 2

**WARNING; Rated M for future m/m and adult themes, this is not going to be a CG/Ana fic. It will be a CG/Taylor**

 **Chapter 2;**

His digs were nice, Jason thought as he rode up the elevator of Escala with Christian Grey, making a mental note of the different security aspects he wanted addressed. Jason's own apartment was about the size of the elevator, small and minimalist since he spent most of his life out in Somalia Pirate hunting; it wasn't glorious work but it paid good and he had always had a good eye for spotting danger.

Jason had received the call from Welch's Security Firm whilst fighting off an attack to a cargo ship he'd been stuck on for three weeks, telling him that a rising businessman local to Seattle but with a questionable personal life was looking for bodyguard. The job would, supposedly, lead to full time hours which Jason desperately wanted. He needed stable work in or around Seattle to be near his daughter.

Disappearing for months at a time meant he was missing her milestones and causing further tensions between himself and his wife with regards to visitation rights. Often when he got back from Somalia he was battered and exhausted and not in any fit shape to see Sophie straight away so if he saw her once or twice every month he was lucky. It broke his heart.

Grey was...different. For starters, he was about fifty years younger than any Billionaire Jason had ever worked for. He was also very attractive; slim and athletic with one of those naturally good looking faces which required little effort, nothing like the fat old men he was now equal to in the financial world.

From the quick reading Jason had been able to do he'd found that Grey was very quiet and tried to live under the radar but he was exceptionally generous to charities within the city, particularly those focusing on children. He'd normally do a complete background check on a potential employer but he hadn't had enough time after arriving in Portland for some fucking reason.

Secondly, the guy clearly had a sense of humour since he didn't arrest Jason for pulling a breaking and entering stunt to get the job. It had been risky but the way Jason saw it was that if Christian Grey had had him arrested he'd be imprisoned somewhere in Seattle which, really, was what he wanted; permanency in the city so his baby could be near him.

Not that Jason wasn't thankful that Grey hadn't arrested him.

"Beautiful place," Jason called as the elevator doors opened.

"I like being up high," Christian shrugged, watching Jason as he explored the grand entrance. The view was to die for, Jason dropping his rucksack containing all his lifelong possessions on the marble floor. He hadn't much in his apartment but he'd taken the important things; his photos, his weapons, his keys, some clothes. There wasn't much else to bring; the divorcing procedures were harder on him than his wife.

"Is it just you living here?" Jason asked, scratching that sore cut on his cheek again. Lucky shot.

"There's a housekeeper. Once this place is more organised she'll be living here too," Christian nodded, pointing to several cardboard boxes sitting around the kitchen, "I'll be honest, Taylor, there's not a spare bed built for you. I have the mattress but I've not had a chance to fix it up myself," Christian concluded.

"Would you be offended if I built it up myself tonight?" Jason asked.

"Of course not," Christian nodded, looking fit to drop Jason thought, "I've a weekly house guest who comes round from Friday till Sunday evening. I've got a background file for you on her."

"A guest sir?" Jason asked, hands in pockets, "Or a fuck buddy?"

"The latter," Christian nodded with an oddly sad smile, stroking the bridge of his nose as if to stem the world's worst headache, "Look, Taylor. I'm fit to drop. My room's through there and so's the only bathroom. I've got workmen coming this week to fix the rest of the place up. It's been a little hectic moving in. Eventually you and the Housekeeper can have the annex but it's still all in the planning stages. It was a bidding war to get this building and I wasn't expecting to get it hence the disorganisation," he said, Jason nodding along.

So he and a housekeeper would be sharing digs in an annex? Jason wasn't complaining if it meant he'd be getting to live here for free. Sophie would love the view. She was adamant that Fairies lived up in high places. Maybe Jason could make one of those Fairy doors in his bedroom for her? God Sophie would love that.

"Your room for just now is through the house, next to mine. Again, I'm sorry but the only bathroom is in my room until the workmen fix up the main house,"

"That's fine with me, Sir. I've shared facilities with fifty men at a time," Jason assured him, seeing Grey nodding as he ran a hand through his thick dark hair.

"Oh there's a security room too for you. An office. Do what you want with it; I'll organise a business card for you to buy what you need to set it up? I'm just giving you free reign here, Taylor. I'm not the expert and frankly I've got a million other things to focus on."

"I appreciate that sir; I'll make a note of the expenses I need," Jason nodded, "Any other rooms I should know about?" he asked.

"I have a sex room upstairs."

"Hahaha, here's me thinking you didn't have a sense of humour," Jason laughed, shaking his head at the exhausted young man. Only when he noticed Christian wasn't smirking did Jason start debating himself.

"No, I'm being serious, Taylor. In fact, my weekend guest occupies the upper floor over the weekends," Christian said, "So if you could make yourself scarce over the weekends. I'm sorry I've not got the Annex sorted for you to hide in. We'll contain our activities upstairs as best we can."

"You...have a sex room." Jason echoed, unable to hide the shock from his face.

"Yup; a playroom," Christian nodded and pulled a key from his wallet, "Look, Taylor, I'm exhausted. Explore the apartment, make yourself at home. Any questions and you can ask me tomorrow. I usually go running at six."

"That's in six hours, Sir," Jason observed, taking the key "With all due respect, you look exhausted."

The guy looked incredibly troubled, as though the notion of sleep was something to be feared. Jason had seen guys in the Corps who experienced horrid nightmares after all they'd seen in Desert Storm; had Grey undergone trauma too? It was explain how…odd he was.

He was a handsome young man with the world at his feet and all the money imaginable; why didn't he have a sea of Victoria Secret models at his feet 24/7? Why constrain himself to having one weekend guest? What was the deal with that? If Jason had what Grey had –looks, wealth, youth- he'd pay Margot Robbie a million dollars just to strut around naked.

Big mistake thinking of Margot Robbie, Jason thought; he hadn't been laid in months, hadn't even jerked off. Thinking about all the women he'd pay to walk around naked was not the best train of thought.

"I appreciate your concerns, Taylor, but I'll be fine come six am. Do you have workout clothes?" Grey questioned.

"I have," Jason nodded, his sneakers in his bag as well as his shorts and a vest which was loose enough that it could cover his piece while he and the boss went running, "I'll be waiting at six," he said, holding the key, "Unless I go running for the hills tonight, huh?"

"True," Grey smiled softly, the flicker of humour dancing on his lips, "The women I take in there, Taylor, all consent to it. I have screening periods, draft up documentation; contracts, non-disclosure agreements… everything is perfectly legal. I can give you a walking tour of everything in there tomorrow after our run if you need to see what I do in there for your own peace of mind."

"I appreciate that, Sir," Jason nodded, "I'll handle it with the utmost discretion and approach it with an open mind. I appreciate your honesty about your lifestyle but I'm not a prude; a few whips wont spook me."

"Oh Taylor," Grey laughed and turned, making his way towards the door he'd pointed out to be his bedroom and the only working bathroom, "there's clean towels in there for you."


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3;**

Jason was waiting for Christian bang on six am in the beyond minimalist grand hall of Escala. He hadn't expected to win the bidding war on this building, a new build penthouse suite which towered over Seattle. The company was booming and his paycheck was rising at an astonishing level but he hadn't wanted to blow his entire bank account on this one building. That wasn't smart investing. Instead, he'd placed a bid nearly 3 million under asking price and was told he'd been outbid by two other possible buyers.

Only a day later he'd had a call back asking if he'd be willing to offer an extra million to ensure a sale then and there. Apparently the other two bidders had been time wasters and backed out when money was asked for. That had been a nice little wake-up surprise and he'd signed the cheque then and there and, now, he had a building with fantastic potential.

Or so his little sister had said; 'fantastic potential'. Christian wasn't honestly too sure where to start when it came to decorating and household shopping. There was still so much which he needed done and it had all had to be put on the backburner lately with the company taking on the global market now. There was also the added stress of those horrific death messages he'd started receiving which required him to seek out Taylor.

' _You hotshot rich boy_

 _we will make your sister bleed_

 _then slit your weak throat'_

He shuddered as he thought about the distressing messages which he'd received lately in the company mail. He's no idea who was behind them, if it was one person or multiple like most of the letters hinted that it could be. The Seattle Police Department had encouraged him to seek out some form of protection and had offered to give him an unclothed police detail but that just seemed like too much hassle. These letters were probably nothing, Christian was nearly certain. Just some crack pot stalker who'd taken a shining to him after that article was published in Times Magazine about his up and coming success.

It was Elena's suggestion that he get a bodyguard.

' _What have you to lose by getting a bodyguard? Worst case scenario, Christian, and you end up with an extra piece of eye candy for me to look at when I come over'_

"Mr Grey?"

Christian looked up and realised he'd zoned out again, something which had been happening a lot lately. Taylor was stood in front of him, waving as though he'd been trying to get Christian's attention for some time just now. He was dressed in a pair of loose fitting blue Detroit Piston shorts which stopped just above his knee caps and a vest which barely covered the gun hanging by his hip.

He'd strong legs, Christian noticed as he focused back on Taylor and the job at hand; jogging. Powerful muscular calves and wide, long feet which made him seem as though he were wearing clown shoes rather than his old battered Nike sneakers. He hadn't shaved yet and so his jaw was covered in a sheen of gingery blonde stumble. So Taylor was a ginger, Christian mused, unable to tell given the tightness of his buzzcut.

"Sorry, Taylor, I was miles away," Christian admitted, shaking thoughts of death threats from his mind, "Ready for running?"

"Yes, Sir. May I use the bathroom before we go?" he asked and Christian realised that Taylor hadn't come into the en suite at all this morning. Christian made a mental note to chase up those plumbers of Elliot's to refit the main bathroom faster than the time they'd originally quoted him. It had been fine living with just one bathroom off Christian's bedroom but now that he had another man living with him, there would need to be more effort to get the work done just for each other's comfort.

"Of course, Taylor," Christian nodded and stepped aside as the massive man walked past him to get to Christian's bedroom.

He smelt good, Christian thought as he past, noticing how much taller Taylor was also. He'd forgotten since yesterday just how massive the large man was.

As Taylor freshened up and used the facilities, Christian walked towards the kitchen sink for a glass of water before they headed out, musing over the fact that he no longer lived alone. Even when he'd been at college, Christian had had his own space. Grace and Carrack would have had it no other way. Christian had always been a bit of a loner so living with another man was going to be a challenge to adapt to.

Truth be told, Christian had been shocked to find Taylor still in the house and waiting to go jogging. Since moving into Escala, Christian had focused on setting up the Playroom and the Sub's quarters. Everything else was scarce and minimum. Taylor hadn't ran for the hills on inspection of the playroom which was oddly reassuring; maybe this Bodyguard would stick.

He'd interviewed a potential man last week who'd decided that for religious reasons he wasn't able to work with Christian which had seriously stung his self-esteem. It had hit the young billionaire hard; was his personal life that perverse and deviant that a man of god, a former US Ranger, couldn't hack it?

Taylor was still here so perhaps there was hope for Christian, he thought.

As he was drinking, Christian noticed that Taylor had left the playroom key, which he'd been given yesterday, on the table. There was no note, no description, just a key sat on the island.

"I'm going to need to get a tour of that room and I'd like to see the contracts of any individuals who have been in there with you just so I can be sure you've only taken adults in there," Taylor said as he appeared exactly three minutes after going into Christian's bedroom, briskly walking over to the kitchen.

"That can be arranged; I had subs in my previous property too so I can find those documents for you," Christian nodded, "We can do a tour after work today if that works?"

"That will do," Taylor said, wiping his damp hands on his vest.

"You don't need to ask to use the bathroom here, Taylor," Christian said firmly, "I know it's inconvenient right now to have to share but I will have the workmen called again when we get to the office today and have everything sped up."

"That's fine, Sir," Jason said, being incredibly professional as they walked towards the elevator door and rode down to the building's reception, "What route do you usually take?"

"I normally run North," Christian said, showing him his wrist watch, "Once I've done five miles my watch will buzz and I'll run back."

"Can I suggest that we go a different way? For security purposes," Taylor said as the doors opened out onto Escala's lobby, "From now on we'll go erratic routes to avoid potential Troubles."

"Troubles'?" Christian echoed as they past security, nodding at the doorman as they stepped outside into the brisk Seattle morning. There were plenty of joggers already going about at this hour, Christian had come to know them and often race them mentally without their knowing.

"Yes, _Troubles_. Anything ranging from the media to a crazed axe murderer will now be labelled simply as 'Troubles.'," Jason shrugged and stretched out his long legs, "It keeps things simple when we might not be in a position to communicate about the exact danger. If I say ' _there is Troubles ahead,'_ you will turn and go without asking me a million questions."

 _So bossy…_

Christian watched him pulling his legs and cracking his neck and mimicked him by doing a few lunges himself to limber up for jogging. Normally, Christian would run without stretching and just make up for it by do a cool down lap of his usual route. If he hurt himself on the run then so what. A little pain never killed anyone. If anything he rather liked the sting of over worked muscles, the burning uncomfortable pain of stiff joints. It was almost a form of self-masochism, a sign to his brain that he'd worked out hard enough to be in pain.

His mother would call him stupid for having such a mentality, but to Christian that was what he took from pain.

Begrudgingly, Christian did as Jason suggested and took a different route, a longer one too. For a slight moment he felt a pang of anxiety caused by detouring from his usual routine. He worked through it by running harder, pushing away the gnawing worry in his stomach and forcing himself to sprint for nearly ten minutes solidly. Sweat was pouring from his forehead and stinging his eyes so badly that he nearly tripped over Taylor who'd steadily kept his pace but appeared to also be struggling at the rate of intensity Christian was working himself to.

His calf muscles were burning and his chest was heaving which was when Christian realised how normalised his body had become to his usual workout. By the time he approached the doorman at Escala, he was utterly spent and had to bend over to catch his breath. Beside him, Taylor panted hard and Christian watched the man trying to keep upright and in control of himself and his environment, scanning the crowds for potential 'troubles' whilst trying not to vomit up a lung.

For the first time in years, running felt like a workout again to Christian, having never appreciated how complacent he'd become since the business started to take off. Maybe he should organise a fitness coach? He'd toyed with the idea lately, ever since the death notes became more…personalised and intimidating. All through his childhood he'd been a strong kickboxer but since dropping out of college he hadn't really had time for hobbies and sports.

He made a mental note to have Jason do a few background checks on potential fitness coaches as they headed into the foyer and to the elevator.

"Do you always run that hard?" Jason finally managed to say in the security of the elevator, able to double over and try and catch his breath. Christian had to smirk; the large man bent over at the middle and near dying at what had been a seriously intense work out. It reminded him of how his Submissives often looked after a hard and raw fucking session; completely buckled.

"No," Christian said as the doors opened to the apartment.

"Thank fuck," Taylor whistled and stood, sweating too. Perhaps he would benefit from coaching sessions too, Christian mused as he walked out into what would be the grand hall once he figured out what he wanted to do with the décor.

"Do you want first shower?" Christian offered as he fetched them both water from the fridge, "We've forty minutes to get downtown to GEH."

"I can be showered in two minutes," Jason said smugly, wiping sweat from his brow before gulping down the water, "I may have to borrow your shampoo though. I'll have to go to the chemist for some toiletries."

"Help yourself," Christian shrugged, "Write down what you need and the housekeeper should fetch everything for you."

"Sir," Jason said, walking through to the en suite after picking up his towel and razor.

With a sigh, Christian peeled his feet out of his trainers and studied his apartment, trying to envision what he wanted done with the beautiful space. The reality was that he wasn't sure, the business took up most of his mental power and when he had a spare moment to himself he preferred to spend it fucking, if he could, or reading over figures in his bed.

It was an oddly lonely existence for a man his age; Elliot was still trying to break even with his construction business but instead of investing his profit to the company's growth, he was plundering it on maintaining his party-boy lifestyle.

Or maybe that was a normal lifestyle for a good looking twenty-something year old?

Picking up his cell, Christian text his brother to ask if he knew someone in his trade who would like the chance to decorate Escala for Christian. If Elliot didn't know someone, he'd have to ask Mia and he would rather not. Mia's bedroom was a horrid merger of Moroccan colour tones and Bohemian prints. That was something Christian did NOT want in his personal space. No matter how much she preached that it was a fashionable design right now, it reminded Christian of being on a fairground ride with a belly full of soda and hotdogs.

"There you go, Sir," Taylor called and Christian checked his watch; two minutes exactly. He looked up and frowned momentarily as Jason walked towards his bedroom with his towel hung around his hips, running gear in hand.

"That was quick," Christian mused, unable to help himself from staring at the man's massive body. He'd never seen a man Jason's size in person before; easily 6'2, massive shoulders and arms the size of tree trunks. He'd very pronounced pecs and well defined eight pack of muscles which were lightly dusted in fair hair. There were a good few scars across the man's body and on his upper arm was a faded tattoo; the classic Navy anchor.

"You learn to use your time wisely in the Marines, Sir," Jason said was he made his way, barefoot, to his door.

"You have a tattoo," Christian called after him, causing the massive man to pause and stare down at his arm.

"Is that a problem, Sir?"

"No, I just didn't realise," Christian said quickly and looked away from the man as he walked towards his bedroom and into the en suite.

He'd expected to be met with a wet bathroom with damp floors and ceiling but Christian was pleasantly surprised by how dry and neat everything was after Taylor had been in. Sure, he'd only been in for two minutes but everything appeared to have been dried to a level where Christian wouldn't have realised another man had just been in here.

Well, not completely, Christian realised, noticing that Taylor had left the toilet seat up. Mrs Jones would have a fit, he thought as he went for a leak himself before stripping and hopping into the shower. The warm water soothed his aching muscles and he took the time and liberty to soap up his body under the hot jets.

Spare his sex room, his shower was possibly one of Christian's most favourite places in Escala so far. It was where he went when he needed to cleanse his skin from the day's hard grind, where he could scrub away the nightmares before he set about his day, the place he could hide and reflect on the death threats which had regrettably taken over his life lately.

' _acid will burn you_

 _no one will hear you screaming_

 _you are utter scum'_

He gulped suddenly and held the wall to keep him upright as he suddenly remembered the letter he'd received only a few weeks ago. He'd had this one sent to his office but no one knew where it had come from or who had delivered it. The police were clueless and assured Christian that it was probably just a lunatic, nothing more, nothing worth worrying about. But he couldn't stop worrying. It was effecting his sleep, his free time. Lately he'd developed an overbearing feeling that he was being watched and stalked but whenever he turned around or attempted to use a window for reflection, there was never any one particular individual watching him.

He was slowly losing his mind with his anxieties.

Having Taylor around would hopefully help loosen the tightness of Christian's chest, even just marginally. Enough to allow him the ability to breathe.

He climbed out of the shower and walked naked through to his bedroom where he quickly got dried and dressed, running a hand through his copper waves before walking into the main room once more.

Taylor was stood chatting to the housekeeper, Gail, munching on a piece of toast as he spoke.

"Oh, Mr Grey, can I make you breakfast?" Gail smiled welcomingly as always.

"Not today, Gail, I'm not hungry," Christian said. It had been a long time, it felt, since he had last been hungry. Gail had noticed his lack of appetite and appeared to be concerned. He humoured her by requesting a packed lunch for work. He would graze from through-out the day to ensure that his body wasn't starving, but eating a whole meal just made him nauseous.

"Okay, Mr Grey. Your packed lunch is in the fridge and your coffee is in your travel mug," Gail smiled pleasantly, turning to Taylor, "It was lovely to meet you, Mr Taylor."

"Taylor, please," Jason said, more politely than he'd been with Christian during his interview, "Thank you for taking my shopping list."

"Not a worry; I'll be sure to have your toilettires in your room on you and Mr Grey's return," Gail smiled, heading with her washing basket to get Christian's laundry, "Good day, Sir."

"Thanks," Christian nodded, looking at Taylor now. He'd dressed sharper than he'd been during his interview, wearing a tailored grey suit and black polished brogues. He had a tie on but it was loose around his thick neck, and Christian realised the man's shirt was too tight for him to wear comfortably, "I'm ready to go to GEH, Taylor. Once we're there, I'll have one of the Tommy from HR organise a company expenses card for your uniform."

"Oh, thank you sir," Taylor said as he followed Christian to the elevator once he'd placed his plate in the sink, "Will I be driving you today, Sir?"

"Yes, Taylor," Christian nodded, looking at his wrist watch as they rode down to the basement, "We'll take the Merc today."

He saw Taylor grimace a little at the mention of the Mercedes, "Are you not a fan?"

"I feel they compromise safety for glamour, Sir," Taylor admitted, "Personal preference, of course; most cars don't really meet my criteria when it comes to security and the safety of the client. I would like to have an enforced car manufactured for your safety, Sir."

"An enforced car…what? Like a tank?" Christian questioned in disbelief, "Why? The Merc had some of the best reviews of any car of its year."

Taylor said nothing as he walked through the carpark, passing Christian's neighbours cars as he made a beeline to Christian's spot where his Merc and his Ferrari were parked minding their own business. The bastard of a man pulled his gun from under his blazer, pointed, and fired directly at the Merc, causing Christian to jump forward to protect his Ferrari.

The windscreen shattered.

He popped three tires with a straight shot.

The hood of the engine was perforated.

"Stop! Okay, okay! I understand! For Christ sake, Taylor!" Christian shouted angrily, covering his ears as the sound of the gun echoed around the parking lot, "Look at my Mercedes!" he roared.

"Imagine if you were in that car," Taylor said with a shrug, "With your permission, I'll have my contacts with Audi start the manufacturing process. He knows what level of safety and reinforcement which I like my clients to drive."

Christian just stared on in shock as he realised how much the round of bullets had damaged his Merc, the car he'd been driving for months now thinking he was safe as houses.

"Do you still want me to drive?" Taylor asked and Christian realised the bastard had walked over to Christian's Ferrari and was tapping it's roof.

"You just destroyed my Mercedes. Do you honestly think I trust you driving my fucking Ferrari?" Christian exclaimed, "Move. I'm driving. You focus your gun on actual physical enemies and not vandalising other people's property."

"Sir," Jason nodded and did as asked; moving to the passenger side, trying his best to hide a cheeky smirk which had cropped up his face.

Cocky prick, Christian thought as he slammed his foot on the accelerator out of the parking lot, slamming on the breaks bang on the junction before Taylor had a chance to buckle up. He slammed against the dashboard with curse, Christian not bothering to hide his own smirk as he made his way to GEH.


	4. Chapter 4

**WARNING; Rated M for future m/m and adult themes, this is _NOT_ going to be a CG/Ana fic. It will be a CG/Taylor**

 **Chapter 4;**

Jason wasn't a prude in the slightest. Hell no, he liked sex of all different kinds; the slow, worshipping and loving kind, the ' _quick before the baby wakes_ ' kind, the too many beers kind, the hard and rough kind, the biting her shoulder as she rode him down the victory mile kind.

All kinds worked for Taylor, he didn't especially have a favourite position. It greatly depended on his mood or the timing. If he was honest, he loved doggy because it meant that he had the ability to bite his partner's shoulders which his loved. It was a strange fixation he'd developed as he'd become sexually active; relishing how animalistic it felt to be able to do nothing, say nothing, and just bight down hard because he was so into it.

Not that he'd say no to missionary right now. He was a hot blooded male after all so to him sex came before eating in his list of needs. And he needed it badly; it had been over a month since he'd last managed to get laid, after all. Another few weeks and he'd be humping the pillows in desperation or, worst case scenario, he'd be wetting the sheets through the night like some teenage boy.

However, stood in Christian Grey's Emporium of Wonders, Jason couldn't help feel like an absolute prude. Especially when he had to ask what everything was. Hand cuffs, he knew what they were and loved having them used on himself, put through his paces by women of any description, and he was well aware of what blindfolds were to be used for. The cockrings had thrown him a little; he thought that they were some sort of female oral device to keep their mouths open or something. Grey had gently informed them of what they actually were and tried his best not to hide his smirk as he did so.

The whole thing was making Jason oddly horny, which made him nervous too because he was being given the grand tour of this unusual...hobby room, and it made him wonder about his own sexuality. Or maybe it was the long dry period which had him sitting at a comfortable semi. Either way, he was aroused as he gently stroked the fine wood of the large four-poster canopy bed in the middle of the room.

Today in GEH he'd spent his time becoming acquainted with the current security guards and organising what needed to be done to bring GEH up to _Taylor Standard_ and, from what he'd seen of the place so far, it wasn't going to be an easy job whatsoever and he'd have to pull a lot of favours to get this place to a high enough level. The entire building was more penetrative than a whore house; any one could just walk in off the streets.

The long standing CCTV was dated and grainy and only showed angles which the idiot who'd installed them believed to be important. They were stationary to one position and couldn't even zoom in which left Jason in utter disbelief. He had made a call to one of his friends in the Fire and Alarm services who he trusted with these sorts of things and gotten a quote for the whole building and booked an appointment for him to come look out over Escala. The entire building was going to require a total update in terms of security cameras and it would end up being a very costly requirement with a period of upset for people with offices and cubicles as the cameras were fitted. Grey had given him the thumbs up to go ahead with it so Barbara in Marketing would just need to except that she would be displaced from her desk for a couple of hours for the sake of security.

The next big issue Taylor had to make was the current in-out system. The security guards by the door, two portly men who had let Jason through without a second's hesitation when he'd snuck in for his interview, needed a reality check. Fast. A reality check which Jason delivered swiftly by roaring and shouting about thieves, murderers, serial killers, kidnappers before finally throwing the terrorism card at them loudly. It had seen everyone in the surrounding area wince and lower their heads for their part in the current standing shoddy security checks.

Taylor had lost himself in a fit of rage, his exact words to the security guards and the front of desk receptionists had been;

 _'I didn't spend years balls deep in sand and blood so you fat fuckers could invite the bad guys into this fucking building. This isn't some Walmart gig you've landed! This is a multimillion dollar company! Get your fucking fingers out your bone idle asses and ID everyone that comes through that door! Record everyone's name, address and details and phone the appropriate departments to ask if they've got meetings arranged! It's not fucking rocket science you lazy pricks! One warning and you're out! Get. It. Done!"_

That had scared everyone into action and had caused a lot of stir amongst the HR staff. Apparently screaming ' _terrorism_ ' by the front door wasn't appreciated conduct for their wishy-washy ' _everyone loves everyone_ ' shit. He didn't care, didn't take their comments into consideration. Instead he'd continued his whirlwind of dismantling and reorganising.

By eleven, after nearly four coffees, he was bursting for a piss and so headed back upstairs to let the boss know he was taking a break.  
"You've been busy, Taylor," Christian had mused as he stood, intent on joining Jason to the bathroom on the top floor, "I've had eight complaints and two resignations from current security staff."

"A new personal best, complaint wise. As for the resignations; that works for me, Sir," Jason nodded as he opened the gent's door. Escala might be lacking in facilities but GEH made up for them. Grey had recently invested his own profit into the business to bring around a canteen for staff, a gym to encourage healthy lifestyle amongst staff and upgraded the current bathrooms. He'd seen that the women's bathrooms even had breastfeeding cubicles because on floor two there was a children's crèche for parents. It was all people focused because a smart businessman knows that happy staff equal productive staff.

The gent's room no exception and was lovely with a waterfall trough and motion-sensor taps and soap, a vending machine that sold everything a working man could need; little breath mints, travel sized deodorants, condoms, stress toys, pens…

"I have a friend who's going to look at your cybersecurity," Jason said as he approached the trough, unzipped and tried not to groan as he expelled all that goddamn coffee, "Computers are a little out of my depth but he'll be able to get a decent software installed for you."

"Good," Grey said, stood beside him and struggling to get the flow going by the sound of it, "And what about the front of house?"

"I'm going to want to alter the lay out. Bring in policies where visitors leave their phones, advanced metal detectors, some sort of screening system for suitcases...and then I want reception to log the visitor's every detail."

"Expensive. Are these all absolute necessities?" Christian asked.

"This is basic stuff. I can take you to other buildings in this area and show you exactly where you're lacking and they're not," Jason said, shaking his dick a couple of times and then a third for good measure. He tucked himself back in to his suit pants and zipped up, hearing Christian finally relax enough to piss once he'd hit the flush and caused a torrent of water to pour down the wall.

That was weird to him, men being bladder shy, but then Jason was a Marine. He'd shit, showered and shaved with his men out in the desert. He'd even fucked alongside them so being shy over taking a piss just wasn't a normal thing to him like it was for other men.

"Take it out of my bank account then, Taylor," Christian decided, zipping up and joining Taylor at the deep marble sinks, "But can you please be nicer about it? I like you. I like your conviction. And I already feel a lot safer having you stomping around. But I can't have you upsetting HR. Just...Maybe less Drill Sergeant?"

"I'll try, Sir," Jason nodded, "If you'll excuse me, I need to call a friend."

"You have lots of those," Christian smirked as he held the door open for Jason, "Which friend is this?"

"This friend is in the car industry. I have to replace a Mercedes which was tragically shot."

"' _Tragically_ ' my balls," Christian mumbled and stalked back through to his office and left Jason continue to find his feet with the building.

"I take it those are whips?" Jason asked as he forgot about his day at GEH and continued to explore Christian Grey's playroom. He walked over to a dark wooden rack where several offensive looking pieces of leather hung, one coiled and hung with expert marksmanship, the other, more ridged looking weapons, hung in order of height. One in particular caught his eye; a flogger of sorts which reminded Jason of his days in school when the headmaster would use corporal punishment when he and his friends mucked around too much.

"Sort of," Christian commented and handed over the flogger which he was staring at. It was heavy in Jason's hand, and felt a little sinister to hold, remembering how much it stung to get a smack to the hands when he was aboy, "There's lots of different categories of 'whip', but they're traditionally divided into firm whips like these over here which are rigid and less flexible," he pointed to a selection of riding crops, bamboo canes and the one in Jason's hand.

"So what's this?" Jason asked, pointing to the coiled whip, putting the flogger back in its holding clasp.

"A flexible whip. A dragon-tail whip to be exact," Christian said, without a second thought as though all of this was just common knowledge to him, "I'll be honest, I'm still learning how to use that one."

"How do you teach yourself to whip a human?" Jason frowned, trying to imagine how bad that would go if he struck someone in the face. Jason had met with PoW before on Veteran days and had been shown the extent of their scarring after hearing the horrors of Japanese Death camps and all manner of grim things. Whipping humans shouldn't be a hobby, Jason thought, not when there were victims who'd had to endure it forcefully.

"Balloons, usually," Christian admitted and pointed back over to the large four poster canopy bed which dominated the middle of the room, "I hang balloons from up there and strike them. When I can confidently get a hundred in a row consistently then I'll maybe consider bringing the whip into the bedroom. Maybe. It's a tough thing to master and I would hate to really damage someone's skin. It's not a toy," he said, delicately stroking the whip before they moved on.

Jason nodded and looked at the dragon-tail whip one last time before he walked over to a rack which held a large collection of horse riding crops, "These are more familiar."

"You've used crops before?" Christian questioned with interest. For the first time since they'd walked into this room together, Christian appeared to relax just for a nanosecond, as though Jason having experience with some element of this lifestyle made him feel less…judged. Not that Jason was judging him; he knew a guy back in the day who'd had a piss fetish. As long as he didn't piss on Jason or Jason's property, he'd let him get on with whatever weird shit he enjoyed on their downtime.

"Yeah I've used one before; ex liked a spanking," Jason shrugged, "Ours wasn't anywhere near this...expensive looking. This looks like it's straight from the horses." he lifted one in particular and lightly tapped it across his hand, remembering when his ex wife had decided to use their toys on him for a change. That had been a dark awakening for sure; he'd surprised himself by how much he'd enjoyed being the receiver of the crop on his skin.

The memory went straight to his cock and he felt himself twitch in his pants as he remembered the sting on his ass and the back of his thighs, a slap to his nipples before it had all gotten too much and he'd taken her on the sofa hard and fast.

"What do you do with this?" Jason croaked, clearing the lust from his voice with a cough as he turned back to look at Grey, hopeful that he hadn't noticed that his mind had left the room, "Because you can do some serious damage with any of these items if you lose yourself in the moment."

"Normally I would have the submissive lay over the bed there or I'll have them hanging up on the suspension grid and I would use the crop for whatever reason. Their pleasure, a punishment... There is a safe word in place and I know when to stop. Absolutely," Christian said a tad defensively to Jason's ears, "I've been part of this lifestyle for a long time. What do you use a crop for, Mr Taylor?"

 _Mr. Taylor._

Jason glared when Christian called him 'Mr'. He knew that Jason loathed it. The prick gave him a smug grin, crossing his arms over his chest and winking suggestively to further antagonise him.

Or was it an attempt to antagonise him? Because to Jason, it felt an awful like he was possibly, maybe, perhaps, flirting with him? Why the wink felt suggestive to Taylor, he was unsure. It perhaps had to do with Grey's cocky attitude? Maybe it was the Sex Dungeon they were both in? Most probably, however, it was Jason's dick jumping to conclusions that Grey was flirting with him. But even then, that confused the hell out of Jason. After all, he was straight and he was nearly completely certain that Grey was straight.

They were both heterosexual men in the prime of their lives. Yet why did Jason suddenly feel his cheeks flare as Grey regarded him with a playfulness Jason hadn't realised that he was capable of, laughing at how easy it was to enrage Jason just by giving him a title? He was a very attractive man, now that Jason allowed himself to really study Christian Grey. He had a lean figure with strong arms and frim legs which he could run on for miles. His hair was an unusual colour, not quite ginger like Jason's was when it grew, but not brunette. A sort of dark copper colour which reminded Jason of Fall and the start of the leaves turning russet tones. His face was nearly completely symmetrical with a model's structure; high cheekbones, a strong jawline, a straight nose and perfectly formed lips.

Jason realised how ugly he must look stood next to this incredibly beautiful man. Because, now that Jason stopped to appreciate Christian Grey's appearance, he realised that 'beautiful' was the only word that could really describe the man, and it was a beauty which Jason found himself envious of.

After all, Jason looked like a goon in comparison. He kept his hair tight and in a buzzcut because it was all he'd ever known since he was seventeen and he didn't have the confidence to grow it out and try a different style. His nose had been broken so many times in his military life that it now sat squint and at two different angles from stop to start, a bitch when he was bunged up with the cold and couldn't breathe well. He'd a nick in his eyebrow too from when he'd stood too close to an explosion and got shredded by shrapnel; his body also covered in small white scars which reminded him constantly of how close to death he'd found himself that time round.

If Grey was a beautiful diamond, Jason was a hunk of rusty iron.

"What makes you think I was the one that used the crop?" Jason decided to challenge, seeing Grey hesitate there. He stared at Jason intensely then with an expression which was unreadable to Jason. Whatever. Jason felt as though he'd been subjected to enough weirdness and fuckery for one day so he broke the connection they'd found themselves trapped in when they'd met each other's eyes a mere second ago.

"How long have you been in this lifestyle?" Jason asked as he forced himself to turn away from Grey and approach a weird four frame contraption with shackles hanging and what appeared to a pulley system with winches and rope. He looked over when Christian continued to say nothing and rose an eyebrow at his hesitation.

"How long?" he pressed, sensing the answer was going to shock him, as though he'd only been seventeen or something before he got into BDSM.

"A while," was the answer he received and, although it didn't meet Jason's curiosity, he accepted it.

Fine, Jason thought, deciding to leave pressing for more details as he continued to inspect this weird crane system, "What the hell is this?" he asked.

"It's a free standing suspension frame. It's new too, actually. It was delivered and constructed about three weeks before I interviewed you," Grey said, walking over to Jason now, his hands wrapping around the high metal poles of the grid, causing the muscles in his arm to bulge a little, "The principle is to create a heightened state of vulnerability. You can't escape from this, and that gets _certain_ people off."

By certain, Jason realised he meant himself.

"Seems pretty flimsy to me," Jason mumbled, actually evaluating it from a health and safety perspective as if it were a bridge or a new ladder which required an assessment before usage. It was basically, as far as Jason cared, a sideless box with four poles holding up a grid above the individual's head. He assessed that the individual would be strapped in first by their arms on either side of the grid before having their legs attached and winched up off the ground. But that was only a guess. He's need to assess how much weight this thing could hold, how 'inescapable' the shackles were and whether, in an emergency, the person could free themselves or not.

To test this, there really was only one way to do it.

"Go attach my wrists," he mumbled, seeing Christian hesitate, "Come on. I need to see this in action."

"If you're sure," Christian shrugged and came right up into Jason's personal space, about five inches from Jason's face. He stood his ground, staring down into the man's bright grey eyes and watching as he, first, caressed the skin of Jason's wrists gently and with obvious care, before strapping him into the shackles individually as that both his arms were spread and on either side of the frame.

"Is this comfortable?" Christian asked, studying his wrists with a curious expression before staring into Jason's eyes with some sort of mirth. For a moment, Jason was lost as to what was happening and he sensed by Christian's cocked eyebrow that he felt the sudden spark of curiosity too.

Jason nodded in response to Christian's question and, with all his might, attempted to rip his arms free of his restraints. Like he expected, however, the shackles didn't budge. Neither did the frame when he dangled his full bodyweight.

"What would you normally do next?" Jason asked, looking at Grey who gave him a very loaded smirk.

"Well, that depends what sort of mood I'm in," he said evenly as he came up behind Jason's body, "Usually, I would take the Sub's leg and restrain that too, leaving one foot on the ground. It depends on the person though. If they're not comfortable with suspension then we don't tend to do it. And there's always the safe word."

"When you do use this, is the...sub…left like this?" Jason asked curiously, shifting his legs apart when he felt Grey kick them to demonstration how he'd like his Subs to stand, leaning forward slightly to see if he could tip the contraption with his weight; but it wasn't for budging and he realised how much of a prone position he was currently stood in. Becoming aware of Grey behind him, he stood up and straightened his legs again.

"Occasionally I'll leave them in here, blindfolded too," Christian admitted, walking back around and staring at Jason now, "If in-escapism is their pleasure, of course. This isn't about me; it's about two consenting adults with wants. And needs."

Well that needed changed, Jason though, thinking in terms of health and safety to keep himself professional and not allow his mind to wonder back to that dark, confusing place it had just been. If this sort of equipment existed in this apartment then Jason needed this room completely fireproof for a start. And he wanted a panic button connected to this contraption for whoever was attached to it, with the receiver in the security office. As much as Christian believed he had control, Jason wasn't willing to take the chance that Grey would lose it 'in the moment', a decision which Jason was making based on his own experiences with sex. He'd need to talk to Grey about CCTV in this room too but he was exhausted from thinking about cameras today. Every room in GEH and Escala was set for fitting, transaction pending, but Jason would need to do Grey's Emporium of Wonders himself to abide by the Non-Disclosure Agreement he'd signed.

"Right," Jason finally said, tucking his legs up to his chest and dangling for a moment on the grid roof to test the frame's weight once more before he looked at Christian, "Unshackle me."

Christian nodded and got in close once more to Jason, focusing on the tough leather binds around his wrists. He worked one easily enough, the second coming away too with a bit more effort. Before Jason could move, however, Christian had taken his hands and was studying his wrists intently.

"I need to put a little lotion on those red marks first before we move on," he said lowly and Jason realised he'd given himself two large red rub marks from trying to break free from the shackles and then testing the frame's weight and strength.

"That's really not necessary," Jason tried but was pulled over to the large four post canopy bed and made to sit on that ugly red pvc mattress protector, his jeans causing the material to creak under him.

"No, I insist," Christian mumbled, walking towards a locked cupboard before coming back over with some weird lotion shit in a pump-top bottle. If Jason was being honest, it looked like the sort of lotion he'd use to jack off with but he sat dutifully and held his wrists out for the man to study.

"Does it hurt?" Grey asked and then knelt in front of Jason, between his legs, as if he were about to take Jason's AWOL cock from his pants and put those pretty lips to work. He shook his head forcefully, trying to knock that perverted thought from his mind, scared by how easy his imagination was delving into some insane faggot shit.

"No, it's just a little hot," Jason admitted, looking down at Grey and watching as he lightly caressed the rub marks with his lotion-covered fingers. It felt cool and good. Too good. Surely Grey was able to see how uncomfortable Jason was finding this, leaning forward and laying his elbows on his legs to try and hide the erection which had decided to evolve from the semi he'd been nursing all evening, "That's nice."

"It's important for you to see see that I do this, Taylor," Christian said softly, "I care for my subs, I like to know that they're comfortable and safe after we've fucked. I rub lotion in their sores and welts, and I'll bring them water or juice if they need it to refresh themselves. A large part of my job is keeping good care of my submissive. Not just beating them black and blue to get off."

"I see that, Sir," Jason agreed, wanting to move this along so he could either hide away in his room and organise his thoughts of take himself in hand and jack off hard and fast.

"There you go," Grey nodded, using Jason's thighs to stand up, "Sorry, my legs are still burning from today's run."

"Mine too. Same time tomorrow?" Jason nodded, not in any hurry to stand so he pretended to study his wrists intently.

"Same time, different route," Grey smirked playfully again; two smirks in one night, Jason thought, pigs must be flying, "It's the only way we'll keep Troubles at bay, right?"

"Right," Jason laughed and couldn't help smiling up at the pretty businessman, "If it's okay with you, I'll have another once over this room alone, make a few notes in my notepad about things I'd like to see changed or moved around."

"Oh," Christian then frowned and Jason felt his stomach turn at the thought of Grey having planned someone to come and use this room with him tonight.

"What's wrong?" Jason asked, scratching his jaw.

"Guiseppe DeNatale is fighting tonight," Christian said, scratching his own jaw nervously, those grey eyes looking everywhere but at Jason, "Don't you want to watch it?"

"I'm not a fan of MMA or kickboxing," Jason shrugged, seeing Grey nod and turn around.

"No worries. I'll be in my study if you need me," he said, walking away from Jason and leaving him in his Emporium of Wonders. He hadn't asked Jason to watch sports with him but Jason couldn't help feel as though he'd just rejected the boss, Christian having gone from smirking and playful to shy and retiring.

Shaking his head, Jason finally stood and shifted his now semi back up into the waistband of his jeans as he summoned all his strength to concentrate on what he felt needed done to this room. Tomorrow was a new day and he hoped that a good night's sleep would be enough to rationalise how dirty his mind tonight and how it had ventured into places he'd never thought he'd go. Fuck, he laughed, all he needed was a hard fuck. He was a heterosexual male, after all, a Marine at that. He just needed to get laid. It was his day off on Saturday, he'd go to a dive bar or something and find someone easy and as desperate as he was.

That would fix everything, Taylor was sure as he pulled out his note pad and measuring tape and began to make notes about this room too.


	5. Chapter 5

**WARNING; Rated M for future m/m and adult themes, this is** _ **NOT**_ **going to be a CG/Ana fic. It will be a CG/Taylor**

 **Chapter 5;**

'Where's the kid?'

 _Shhh, be quiet…_

'He's, uhhh, he was there a minute ago, Micky,' mommy said, her voice woozy and funny sounding, like she was still asleep when really she'd been awake with Micky on the sofa for ages now. Christian peeked out through the hole in the kitchen cupboard, hiding from Micky. He was good at hiding, it was his favourite game to play when mommy had other people come round. She told him he was a good hider.

Micky wasn't a nice man and he scared Christian badly, especially when he made Christian get him beer from the fridge when mommy was in the bedroom with her friends. He was smelly and he didn't have teeth but neither did mommy now. He had lots of spots and sore bitties too and so did mommy too.

Sometimes Christian thought Micky was his daddy because he was always with mommy and they slept together in bed or on the sofa like just now but sometimes Christian thought his daddy was maybe Micky's friend Jose because Jose would bring Christian chocolates and books when he visited mommy.

Micky just called Christian ugly and a runt. He bought Christian a teddy at Christmas but it smelt like smoking and Christian didn't like that smell very much.

'Leave him alone, Micky. He's not doin' any harm,' mommy said, and Christian could see his mother lifting a smoke to her lips and taking in a draw, her head going flippy-floppy like it always did when Micky came to visit them. She wasn't wearing any clothes again and had a dirty in her arm. Mommy said never to touch those pointy things because they were dirty. Doctors had them but so did mommy and Micky but Christian wasn't allowed to play with them. Jose said he'd get 'fucked up too' if he touched them. Christian didn't want to be 'fucked up too'. Micky didn't have a dirty in his own arm but he was naked and Christian could see he was really hairy and skinny with scribbles on his arms.

Christian continued to keep small and hide like mommy told him to do. He was wearing his diaper but he needed it changed. That could wait till Micky left though. Mommy would maybe wake up and clean him. Maybe.

'Ugly rat,' Mick huffed, kicking mommy's foot as he stood and scratched his willy like a bad boy does, "I've got a friend who'd like a shot of him. Pay good money.'

'What?' Mommy frowned, laying back on the sofa as Micky walked into the kitchen. Christian took a deep breath and held himself as still as possible, able to look out the crack still and see Micky's hairy legs.

'I know a guy who knows a guy that likes 'em young,' Micky said, opening one of the higher cupboards and getting mommy's medication. He ate it himself and then swallowed from his beer, 'Dunno if he likes boys though. I'll find out. Could get some more income in the house that way. More junk for you.'

'Whatever,' mommy said and she must have been really sleepy because she fell forward on to the floor but didn't get up. Maybe Christian could try and change his own diaper? He was three now so maybe that's what big boys should do?

Christian pondered that thought for a moment before looking down as he felt a spider run over his leg. He screamed and jumped, running out of the cupboard and banging straight into Micky.

'There you are,' Micky grinned, studying Christian closely before glaring suddenly, 'Did you shit yourself?'

Reluctantly, Christian nodded, feeling beyond uncomfortable now in his diaper.

'Oi, Bitch, the rat's shit himself. You gonna do something about that?' Micky shouted at mommy.

Mommy didn't answer.

Micky glared and kicked Christian hard in the tummy, knocking him down. 'I'll teach you to shit yourself, you ugly worm,' he hissed and Christian started to try to run and scream and cry from fear. He wet himself, his diaper leaking because it was so full as he tried to get away and hide again. He needed to hide. He was a good hider, mommy said so herself. He could hide from Micky if he moved fast.

He got as far as the oven when Mick caught him and grabbed his neck, 'Ugly rat,' he snapped, 'Grow the fuck up and stop shitting. You fucking stink and if my clients smell that they aint gonna pay your momma and that ugly bitch wont be worth anything to me. And that means you'll be dead.'

'Uc'le Micky,' Christian tried but he didn't know how to speak good, he didn't know how to be a big boy. Mommy was too sleepy after work to teach him to be a big boy. He really wanted to be a big boy, god if he was a big boy he could beat Micky up, 'Noo!'

Micky sneered nastily, pulled the smoke from his lips and pressed the burny end hard into Christian's chest-

* * *

"No!" Christian screamed loudly, throwing himself forward in bed as he felt his chest ignite and burn in absolute agony. He panted hard as he looked around the black room, braving the darkness and slamming his hand onto the touch lamp beside his bed to offer some sort of lighting to his dark, shadowy bedroom. Mommy wasn't there. Micky wasn't there. But it felt so so real to Christian that there was no point telling himself that it was just a dream. That would just no longer work for him because the dreams had become so real and so vivid that it was as if his mind had transported him back in time to Detroit.

With slow, trembling hands, he gently brushed his fingers over his chest and let out a shuddering breath as he confirmed to his brain that it was all just a hallucination and that he wasn't burning, he wasn't on fire, Mick wasn't here burning him. Christian was alone and safe, high above the dark, scary world in Escala; his palace in the sky. His hand slid down to the crotch of his pants and he realised that he'd, once again, wet himself.

It was becoming a common occurrence the more often he had that specific nightmare. Mrs Jones said nothing about the damp, urine stained sheets and rightly so; Christian was embarrassed enough without his paid help making comments about his night terrors-

"Mr Grey?"

Christian cursed, hearing Jason outside his door, the knocking startling him enough that he nearly had a heart attack; his body was just not recovered from the nightmare yet. It figures that now, of all times, the bodyguard would be awake. Christian kicked the bedsheets off his body and examined them before walking over to the main light and switching it on to further confirm to his mind and body that he was safe.

"Mr Grey, I heard you screaming. Can you open the door please?"

"It was just a nightmare, Taylor. That's all," Christian growled as he began to remove the urine sodden covers, cursing silently under his breath as he did so, "Nothing's wrong."

"I still need to check the room out sir," Taylor said adamantly and Christian heard the door handle turn.

"No!" he shouted furiously and Taylor stopped opening the door instantly. Christian breathed a sigh of relief, shaking his head and rubbing his anxiously pounding chest, "Taylor, go back to bed. I'm fine."

"Sir," Taylor replied and, thankfully, the door was not open.

Sighing in relief once more that Taylor had gone back to his room, Christian stripped his bed linen and bundled them up into a pile on his end table. The mattress was his next problem but he was exhausted enough to not care about it just yet. With a huff, he flipped it over and then examined whether or not it would be too damp to sleep on. He was pleasantly surprised that it hadn't seeped through, thankfully, but still he shook his head and rubbed the bridge of his nose in stress.

The nightmares were getting worse and worse lately which Christian attributed to the death threats he was receiving. There seemed to be no escape from this constant feeling of terror, not in work, not in Escala, not in his dreams. Even with Taylor here, Christian couldn't allow himself to let his guard drop.

His boxer shorts had to come off now because they were cold as well as wet. He chucked them onto the pile of sodden bed linen before pulling out a new pair from his top drawer. Mrs Jones had said, in passing, that anything he needed clean in her absence he should just put in the washing machine or dishwasher. In other words; _'If you piss yourself, put the sheets in the wash and I'll pretend it's not happening more and more often'._

"I can't believe this," he said to himself as he found a fresh pair and grabbed all of the soiled linen into his arms. He opened his bedroom door and-

"What the fuck are you doing out of bed?" Christian gasped, banging into Taylor's hard chest with the linen in his arms.

The man was stood with his gun loosely in hand, wearing only a pair of military issue tighty-whities. Christian's eyes fell upon Taylor's muscular body, drawing comparisons to his own. The bodyguard was bigger, more powerfully built, with golden crisp hair across his eight pack, arms and chest. He was hairier than Christian, but then Christian groomed himself religiously. He'd powerful legs too; large thighs which were also a little hairy.

Christian heard him cough and realised he was staring at Jason's body in silence. Looking up into Jason's face now, the larger man had cocked an eyebrow at Christian's startle. He also appeared to note the soiled sheets in his arms. The man's nostrils flared a little next, no doubt smelling the urine Christian realised, but he continued to say nothing, crossing his large arms over his chest as if Christian's staring had offended him somehow.

"I told you I was fine," Christian mumbled as he shook his head, eyeing the glock in Taylor's hand once more, "Why are you still out here for?"

"You woke me, Sir, I thought you were being attacked…and now I need to pee," Jason explained, nodding towards the only working bathroom in the goddamn apartment; Christian's en suite. The room would stink of piss, Christian was sure, so if Taylor hadn't already figured out why he'd had to bundle up his bed linen at three am, he'd know the minute he walked into the bedroom.

All Christian could do was just drop his head in defeat and walk past Jason, letting him go and do his business. Jason must have decided to leave the bathroom door open as he took a leak because Christian could hear him clear as day pissing directly into the water in the bowl.

Grace had taught him never to do such a thing because it wasn't gentlemanly. He'd learned that lesson at about the age of seven, having only completely mastered going to the toilet at six years old with the aid of a child psychologist who was keen to help him get over his 'irrational fear' of going to the bathroom. Looking back on it as an adult, Christian didn't believe his phobia had been irrational. It had been conditioned; whenever he'd had an accident, whenever he made a sound which would inconvenience his mother whoring herself out for drugs, he was burnt. Of course he'd then spend the majority of his childhood shitting and wetting himself; he had refused to use the bathroom until his body could no longer hold it in. Grace and Carrick had been exceptionally supportive throughout those early few years and the arrival of baby Mia had helped him settle into the role of 'big brother' which required him to be a 'big boy'.

The washing machine was a mystery to him so Christian left his sheets in there with the intention of giving Mrs Jones a heads up before she began work tomorrow morning. Closing the door to the drum, he then walked over to the sink and splashed some fresh cold water onto his face. The nightmares were only getting worse now and he felt utterly exhausted.

After drying his face, he walked back through to his bedroom and frowned when he found Taylor cramming a new duvet into fresh bedcovers, bouncing on the soiled mattress with a towel under his feet.

"What the fuck are you doing now?" Christian huffed, crossing his arms over his chest as he walked into the room.

"You can't let piss seep into your mattress or you'll ruin it," Jason shrugged as he jumped on the towel to try to press out as much of Christian's urine as possible with his own feet.

Christian watched as Taylor continued to press the mattress in his briefs. He was surprised that Taylor wasn't a boxer man like himself, particularly when his thighs were massive in comparison to Christian's own. Surely he must chafe something rotten without any material to protect the skin of his inner thigh.

As Christian looked at Taylor now, he realised that the man was also very scarred, just like Christian was himself.

"Taylor, go to bed," Christian growled, "I'm fine," he said adamantly, "We'll speak in the morning."

"Fine," Taylor said, jumping defiantly a few more times before he got off, "That's probably the best I'll get without baking soda anyway," he shrugged, laying the mattress back on the bed, handing Christian fresh bedsheets to accompany the new duvet, "Are we running in three hours?"

"Yes," Christian huffed, snatching the sheets from Jason with a glare, "Get out."

Without a second glance, Jason left, leaving the door open as he went. Christian watched him go, noting the muscles of his shoulders, the odd patches of hair but, most prominent perhaps, the bullet wound scars in his back.


	6. Chapter 6

**WARNING; Rated M for future m/m and adult themes, this is** _ **NOT**_ **going to be a CG/Ana fic. It will be a CG/Taylor**

 **Chapter 6;**

Jason dropped to the floor and began to do his daily press ups and crunches, the Marine Corps having instilled in him the importance of daily physical exercise. It was only six am but Grey was still sound asleep in his pit. Jason had tried to wake him on his way to use the bathroom but he hadn't moved, only grunted and rolled back over into his pillow. He'd decided that he'd try to wake Grey again in half an hour or so and instead finish his work out for the time being. He locked his pull-up bar over the door frame of his room and was doing a few chin ups when Gail Jones walked in.

"…sixty…sixty-one…sixty-two," he called out playfully, the petite woman looking over at him hanging limply with a knowing look; she instantly knew he was bullshitting with his count.

"When I first met you, Mr Taylor, I thought you seemed to be a kind young man. I've since heard that it was you who made little Benny the carpark boy cry," Gail deduced, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Taylor, remember," Jason corrected her, "I'm liable to punch a person's lights out for mister-ing me, irrespective of gender."

"So you're a bully and you're a woman beater?" Gail countered, lifting her gingery blonde eyebrow at him.

"I'm an equalist," Jason rebottled and dropped to his feet, cracking his arms and neck as he walked over to Gail, "And I didn't make Benny cry; I merely told him that he was shit at his job and encouraged him to buck up or fuck off."

"I see," Gail countered as she walked over to the washing machine and sighed.

"Does he do that often?" Jason pressed, nodding at the wet sheets Grey had shoved into the tumble dryer, instead of the washing machine. Typical rich boy, he didn't seem to understand the difference between the two pieces of machinery. When Gail didn't reply, Jason elaborated, "The pissing the bed thing."

Gail stopped momentarily, hesitating before giving her answer, "It has become a more recent occurrence," she said, putting the soiled sheets in the correct machine before turning it on, "He is very respectful about it though; all I ask is that he put them in the washing machine and I will do the rest. He does that. Or at least he thinks he's putting them in the right machine." She chuckled, standing up straight and looking at Jason, "Same goes for you, Taylor. If you have any washing of a…questionable nature…all I ask is that you place it in the right area and give me a heads up."

"Questionable nature?" Jason asked, joining her in the kitchen and leaning against the breakfast bar as he watched her hurry around to get things organised for the day.

"Yes, Taylor. Questionable nature," Gail repeated then chose to elaborate when she saw that Jason had risen an eyebrow, "Mr Grey's brother, Elliot," she began, lowering her voice slightly as she looked towards the boss's room, "stayed with Mr Grey at his old place for a few weeks before his own flat was being refurbished or something; I'm not sure. All I know is I went from having one Grey to care for to having two. Only Elliot Grey was prone to…a lot of overnight guests which resulted in a lot of…questionable crusty white stains on his bedlinen."

"Oh," Jason coughed, scratching his ear as he felt his freckled face burn red with a blush, "Well I can assure you, Mrs Jones, you wont have the problem with me."

"I take it the sex room put you off for life too, huh?" Gail suddenly said and Jason was pretty sure his face went crimson red at this point, choking on his breath.

"Mrs Jones…that would be unprofessional of me to comment on our boss's lifestyle…" he said, then winked playfully, heading over to the sink for a glass of water, "Besides, I've done the marriage thing. I prefer my own company now."

"So there's a Mrs Taylor?" Gail asked.

"There is; after the divorce she wanted to keep the name so it matched our daughter," Jason shrugged, shaking his head when Gail looked at him as though she were searching for more gossip. "She's a lovely woman and all, it just, I don't know. My heart wasn't in it and she knew. We ended it nicely and now we share custody of Soph and try our best to accommodate each other's work schedules with childcare. Like now, I'm exempt from babysitting duties until I get settled here."

"She sounds like a wonderful woman," Gail smiled.

"Are you married?" Jason asked, deciding that that was the next question one should ask someone when the conversation revolved around family life.

"Widow actually," Gail smiled sadly, "Khobar Tower."

"Fuck, really?" Jason whistled, "Airforce?"

"Yup," Gail nodded as she collected eggs from the fridge.

"I lost a friend there. A national," Jason mumbled and shook his head, "What a mess."

"If it wasn't for Khobar and losing Robert I would never have found my fiancé," Gail shrugged, "I believe these things happen to test us, Taylor. And Robert's death was very testing. Callum, my fiancé, was a friend of Robbie's. Now is Mr Grey getting up for breakfast?"

Jason could tell that she was wanting to change the flow of the conversation and that was completely fine by him. He looked at his watch and realised it was nearing seven now, long after the half six he'd said he'd try waking Grey up again.

"I'll go check on him," Jason sighed, scratching his junk through his workout shorts as he headed to Grey's room again. He knocked but didn't hear any movement so he opened the door slowly, "Mr Grey?"

"…mmmm," Christian mumbled, his hairy foot hanging out the bed and a long leg exposed from the duvet.

"Mr Grey, are you getting up?" Jason tried, walking over to him and gently nudging his body.

Still Christian wasn't for moving and Jason really couldn't be bothered trying to wake him up again. His body clearly needed the sleep otherwise his natural body clock would kick in. So he decided to leave Christian to sleep longer, calling Ros to let her know Christian would not be in until later before greeting the workmen who were there to finally start work on the large communal bathroom.

It was eight thirty when Christian finally staggered out of his pit, Jason enjoying a relaxing morning watching the news with a coffee and a fry up whilst Mrs Jones prepped food for dinner. The man looked rough, his copper hair all over the place and crusty saliva on his cheek. He was wearing a vest now that he'd woken up. It covered his chest entirely, and he was also wearing his stripy boxer trunks which he'd changed into a few hours ago. He was still supporting his morning wood too which made Jason raise an eyebrow; he was oddly well-endowed for a man so slight and thin, perhaps bigger than Jason himself.

With a grunt from Gail, Jason realised he'd been staring directly at Grey's crotch. She shook her head at him and frowned in confusion before looking over at Grey. Jason just coughed and picked up his coffee mug, taking a deep gulp. Gail seemed unphased by Christian's lack of dress and arousal. Perhaps she was the only woman who didn't see Christian Grey as anything but a son figure, "Good morning, Mr Grey. Would you like breakfast?"

"What time is it?" Christian snapped when his eyes cast the microwave and he realised he'd slept in, "Taylor, what the fuck?"

"I tried to wake you twice," Jason countered, "I've called Ros to let her know you're not making it in this morning. The workmen have given me a quote on the work for your bathroom too. Mrs Jones and I have had a busy morning whilst you slept."

Christian glared at him but Jason didn't care. He wasn't prepared to be berated for not waking his exhausted boss. He'd tried and failed to wake Grey so he wasn't going to push it when they were still strangers to each other.

"You told Ros I wasn't coming in today?" Christian growled.

"I told Ros you were the boss of GEH and you'll appear when you appear," Jason snapped back, "I need to speak to you anyway with regards to a few security issues I have."

"Your French eggs, Mr Grey," Gail cooed, laying a plate before Christian before she disappeared with a shopping list in her small, feminine hands. With more grunting than was perhaps needed to display his displeasure, Grey sat down opposite Jason on the sofas with his breakfast and a cup of coffee.

"I need you to be more upfront with me about these Death Threats," Jason started as the man before him sprinkled pepper onto his egg toast. He pointed towards one of the many folders he'd received from Christian when he took the job. He'd studied each of them multiple times between reshuffling the security of both GEH and Escala but the information wasn't enough for Jason. "When I signed on you gave me a folder of your information but I really need more that what you've given me."

"What more could you possibly need to know?" Christian mumbled as he stuffed a piece of toast in his face.

"Is there anyone close to you that you believe is responsible for sending these threats?" Jason said, cutting straight through the bullshit and tapping the copies of the threats which Christian had provided him with in the folder.

"No one." Christian said firmly, licking his lips, "No one sticks out in my mind. I've told the same to the cops over and over again. There's no one, no business rivals or anything like that. I'm positive."

"Any lovers?" Jason asked bluntly, "It's my experience that, in most cases, the cause is a disgruntled lover."

"I whip women for a living. Remember?" Christian reminded Jason with a grumpy hiss and a deadpan expression. He was acting as though his contracted sex scheme was justification that one of his ex-lovers wasn't behind these horrible messages. To Jason, however, that was a very real possibility which was why Christian's 'Duh' tone pissed him off so much.

" _Just_ women?" Jason continued to press, not prepared to let the matter go. He saw Grey's expression change and he stared at Jason with an unreadable expression which left Jason feeling slightly uneasy.

"There have been men in the past. Of course there have been. I believe you need to try everything once to know that you don't like it. Especially in my lifestyle," Christian observed rather wisely if truth be told, Jason thought, "Have you slept with men before, _Mr_ Taylor?"

The smirk which Christian gave Jason ignited a burning rage within him; Christian knew how much being 'Mister'-ed pissed him off, let alone the nature of the question. Had Jason been with men; ignorant little prick.

"This isn't about me, Chrissy," Jason countered, sipping his coffee.

"It's Christian."

"Funny that," Jason smirked now, pulling his little note book out of his blazer pocket and opening it at the first available free page.

"Do _you_ think these threats are the real deal?" Christian asked in a softer voice, opening the folder and coming face to face with the first and, arguably, the tamest threat;

 _You will be killed soon._

 _Your blood will pour from your veins_

 _No one will miss you._

Jason could hear the wobble in his voice, watching as the man scratched his chest through the fabric of his vest. Jason could easily read his body language; Christian was truly terrified of these threats; more so than he was letting on to the world.

"Threats happen," Jason shrugged, "Particularly with individuals with high profiles like yourself. You'd be surprised how many people receive death threats in my line of work."

He'd worked with politicians and celebrities in the past, as well as doing his security work offshore in Somalia shooting potential pirates on large industrial cargo ships. What he'd learnt was that death threats often were the work of teenage boys who thought they were being funny, or they belonged to business rivals wishing to spook the opposition. Either was a plausible explanation at the current moment.

"So you think these could be nothing?" Christian pressed, as though his life depended on being told that he was overreacting to these threats and Jason understood why; lately the threats were being aimed at his family. No one liked to be threatened, but Jason had expected Christian Grey to be slightly more resilient if he was being honest to himself. From the background reading he'd done on the man, Jason had come to the conclusion that he was a ballsy type of lad with an aptitude for making the choices no one else could.

The man which Jason envision was very different to the man in front of him at this very second.

"Is there a reason that you think these threats might be real?" Jason decided to ask, staring into the man's shifty grey eyes. He couldn't look Jason in the eye and was staring at everything else in the room.

"Sometimes I think I'm being followed," Christian admitted, tapping his thigh over and over again. It was a nervous twitch and it highlighted to Jason just how much he truly believed he was being followed, "But I'm sure it's just a pap looking for photos, or even someone from a rival business. Sometimes people give me their CV on the streets you see," Christian rambled on.

The young man had shot up into the public eye like a firework only very recently after turning over his first billion dollars, making his business one of the largest up and coming companies to sprout through the fog of the financial crisis. He invested a large proportion of his own personal profit back into the company to maintain its continual growth and advancement which had resulted in offices in New York being open, bringing in more jobs in what was turning out to be a very very hard economic time.

He had very little free time, Jason imagined, so it was a mystery to him just how Christian Grey managed to run a charity for underprivileged children as well as continue to network at large social events with socialites and elitists.

America loved him and it was rightly so; he'd become a very popular image of hope and prosperity to many American households. He was creating jobs in a time where there was none, he was supporting thousands of children through education, he was very publicly supporting refugees and poverty in Africa...

He was so secretive as well that photos of him would be worth a mint to the media so it was very probable that he was being followed by the press and paps.

"You don't think it's either of those things, do you?" Jason pressed, watching as Christian's eyes fell down upon Jason's knees, "Paps or other businessmen."

"No," he agreed. "I think someone is following me."

"Why?" Jason pressed.

"They never take photos," Christian admitted and looked directly at Jason now, "I'll leave my office and I swear there's a man across the street, watching me. That's why I started driving the Ferrari; in case I needed a fast escape."

"Right," Jason nodded, "Thank you for being more honest about the current situation," he said, scratching his chin, "I just want you to know that you have me watching your back now. You're safe."

"Thank you," Christian nodded and scratched his junk, "I'm sorry you had to witness…my night terrors…this morning."

"I'm a marine," Jason shrug, putting his notebook away, "It happens."

"Thank you for being understanding," Christian smiled, looking at the clock on Jason's mobile phone, "I suppose I better get myself dressed for the day."

Jason nodded and then looked at his mobile phone too when it buzzed on the coffee table. He recognised the number straightaway as his friend at the car garage who modified and customised his security cars, "That's my guy texting to say the car is ready."

"It's been two days; how have you organised a new car and had it modified in a matter of hours?" Christian frowned.

"I act fast," Jason shrugged, "Do you want to go and view it before work?"

"Fuck work," Christian said, "Like you said; I'm the boss. I'm taking the day off. Fuck knows I need it."


	7. Chapter 7

**WARNING; Rated M for future m/m and adult themes, this is** _ **NOT**_ **going to be a CG/Ana fic. It will be a CG/Taylor**

 **Chapter 7;**

Jason opted for getting a Taxi down to his 'friend's garage' so that they didn't take the Ferrari. Christian hadn't objected like he'd wanted to, even when Taylor laughed at him for not having a single Seattle taxi number in his mobile phonebook. The smirk which Jason had given Christian was infuriating; a lopsided grin which he felt a sudden and intense urge to whip from Taylor's face. There was precious few things which riled Christian more than disrespectful expressions; eye-rolling, mocking smirks, deliberate yawning. Each individual tick deserved a firm punishment and Christian was itching to deliver the discipline.

Whilst Taylor organised their ride, Christian went to dress for the day. Deciding to dress in jeans and a cashmere jumper, Christian couldn't honestly remember the last time that he'd taken a day off work before. It was an odd phenomena but he was pretty excited, especially when they arrived at this prophesied garage.

Whilst they pulled up, Christian glanced down quickly to check his phone messages and noticed that Elena had text him asking for his company this week for 'drinks and a catch up' at her new place. She'd recently separated from that husband of hers though they were yet to formally divorce and were, apparently, attempting marriage counselling. Christian couldn't see that working out, however, particularly when Elena was now allowing her submissives to work for her through the day. The last time Christian had visited her, he'd been shocked by the three men who were there to be her slaves, cooking, cleaning and worshipping her openly.

He let Jason know of his plans to visit Elena soon, expecting him to have an issue with Christian visiting his old, dear friend. To his surprise, however, the bodyguard just shrugged and nodded, fishing out his wallet from the front pocket of his black jeans to pay for the cab whilst making small talk with the portly man. But so he should pay for the ride; he'd shot and written off Christian's favourite Merc. That car had done him well until Big Bad Smirky Taylor came along and decided to fire his stupid gun at the glass to prove a point.

Christian looked out the window and studied this garage Taylor said that he swore by. They had ended up in a very secluded location on the outskirts of a residential complex near the Sound, north of the main city. If Christian was honest, he expected more from the place. If Taylor and his fellow Security workers used this guy for all their clients then why wasn't there more money to be seen?

"I'll catch the Mariners game later," Taylor said to the driver, giving him a pleasant smile. Apparently the arrogant smirk was just for Christian's eyes only.

"It'll be a tough one; they've not been playing their best this season," the driver rambled as he counted the cash he'd been given.

"They'll win," Taylor nodded, looking over at Christian's uncertainty at their given location, "You alright there?"

"Yeah, I'm just trying to remember when I last got a tetanus jab; a lot of rusty car shells out there," Christian observed and saw that smirk twitching at the corner of Taylor's mouth. He turned quickly to hide it and tipped the driver before they both got out of the car and walked across a very cracked and weeded concrete carpark towards a large rusty blue shed.

"This kid works for Welch's security agency," Jason said, Christian looking up at him. Dressed as casually as Christian was, he looked a lot better today. The suit he'd worn the last few days didn't fit nearly as well as it should do, and although he'd taken advantage of receiving a uniform allowance, he certainly did look better in his black denim levis and a white t-shirt, a pallid shirt over his shoulders to mask his weapon. Christian imagined that this was Taylor in his natural form which explained why he had a slightly better energy about him today.

"A kid owns this garage?" Christian frowned.

"Yup," Taylor nodded, banging his large knuckles on the corrugated iron door, "He grew up in care so tip him well. His work's the best I've ever seen."

"I can't believe a kid is the best in the business," Christian repeated, preparing himself for the worst. He then looked up when he heard someone call out to them both from the side of the building. Taylor didn't flinch, instantly recognising the voice apparently.

"T, my man. My boy. My chief," a young smiling mechanic greeted them, dropping his tools and walking straight over towards both of them with an arrogant youthful swagger, one hand waving and the other on his workman's belt, "What's happening, Chief?"

"Kimmy," Jason greeted reasonably warmly, perhaps the warmest Christian had seen him interact with another human being. HR would probably have appreciated seeing that Jason was capable of being civil when he felt like it. Perhaps that way Christian would receive less threats from Helen in HR over Taylor's attitude in the workplace.

Kimmy was incredibly young to be the professional that Taylor had bigged him up to be, Christian thought. He was maybe eighteen at most with a sheen of acne and greasy curly hair which was held off his face with a hairband. He was wearing oil splattered jeans and a polo shirt with his body-shop logo on the chest, waving brightly at Jason.

"The car is waiting, T," Kimmy nodded, waving both Jason and Christian forwards towards the door. It seemed gigantic from the outside but inside Christian was surprised to find that Kimmy had divided the space into different sections; an office initially to the side of the building with a large work space filled with surprisingly beautiful luxury cars. It was absolutely not what Christian had imagined from someone so young, particularly when the exterior of the building looked like absolute shit.

"How are you keeping, Kimmy?" Taylor asked as they headed inside, "Business been good?"

"Been flying, T," Kimmy grinned up at Taylor, "I had Sawyer here earlier this week actually."

"Fuck, what was he wanting?" Jason smiled again. Christian rose an eyebrow; two smiles in the space of two minutes must really be straining the man's facial muscles.

"A tank, of course" Kimmy laughed, "He asked me to source him an Ocelot."

Jason whistled, "Bugger me; that's 1.5 million dollars' worth of metal. What the hell does he need that for?"

"I never asked," Kimmy chuckled, picking up a set of keys, "We were too busy chatting about chicks, you know Sawyer."

"I know indeed," Jason smiled for the third time, clasping young Kimmy's shoulder as they walked past some pretty ridiculous sized cars which looked straight out of a warzone.

The young man turned and looked over to Christian now, "You're going to love this, Cray-Grey," he said as they past a Mercedes which tickled Christian's fancy slightly; a large silver 4x4 with white tires and red flames on the hood.

" _Cray-Grey?_ " Christian echoed and saw Jason shake his head with an amused smile.

"Yup, Cray-Grey," Kimmy grinned before pointing to the far side of the garage beside a large door, "There's your ride, T! Every box ticked and more."

Christian looked over excitedly for the big reveal and was pleasantly surprised by the vehicle Jason had picked; a large Audi Q7. The thing was an absolute beast of a machine. Christian had never really liked Audi vehicles but he'd never really given them much of a thought before, nor had he looked at the newer models. Carrick drove a Merc and both he and Elliot had driven Mercedes since they'd past their driving tests. When it came to cars, Christian had always stuck with what he'd known so he'd been apprehensive when Jason said he preferred Audi for security vehicles.

This car before him was practically part tank. It was big and shiny black with black alloys and tinted windows. Christian noticed that Jason had even had the Merc's old registration plates fitted onto the new car. It was really perfect, Christian couldn't pick a fault.

"What do you think?" Jason asked, watching as Christian walked around the Audi and studied it closely, stroking the hood.

"It's huge," Christian nodded, looking over at Kimmy, "What's been upgraded? There's not an ejector seat, is there?"

"No ejector seat," Kimmy laughed, "Bullet proof glass was the first thing I fitted," Kimmy smiled as he left Jason's side and walked over beside Christian. He rattled his knuckles on the hood of the car, "reinforced metal. There's a built in jammer too so you have complete privacy from long and short range listening devices. Just the usual T requirements really. Oh, I wasn't sure if you were going to be seeking a guard dog like last time so the trunk has a cage. Didn't want you to see that and think I'd randomly put a dog cage in the back for no reason."

"That's alright," Jason said, straightening his tie as Kimmy handed Christian the keys to his new car, "You want to drive or shall I?"

"It's my new toy," Christian smirked, fishing his cheque book from his jacket pocket so that he could pay Kimmy the right amount and a little extra like Jason had requested he do, "Let's take it for a blast on the motorway."

"I thought you wanted to go to work later?" Jason frowned.

"They've not called yet so I'm assuming their coping without me today," Christian shrugged then looked at Kimmy, "How much do I write this out to?"

"Twenty thousand dollars for the modifications," Kimmy said fearlessly, "in the short time frame. Usually I wouldn't ask for that much for a simple upgrade job but T's been chewing my balls to have this beast tamed for you as soon as possible. He's paid for the car itself out of GEH's credit card."

"I'll make it thirty if you get yourself a haircut, Greaser," Christian joked, ripping the page out and handing it to the youngster, "Taylor, you want to drive us out of here and I'll take over?"

"Of course Sir," Jason said, catching the keys when Christian threw them over to him.

"I'll go get you a receipt," Kimmy said, taking his cheque with him and heading into his little office.

"Perfect," Christian replied, looking around at some of the other vehicles which Kimmy was working on. One in particular caught his eye; a sexy sleek grey Audi sitting up on a ramp, "What's that?" he asked Jason, walking over to it like a moth to a flame, "It's the R8, right?"

"Yeah," Jason confirmed, walking over to look at it as well.

"I want one," Christian said firmly, "Fuck it's gorgeous. Should we get one?"

"We, sir?" Taylor echoed curiously.

"Yes, ' _We_ '," Christian said firmly, staring up at Jason's green coloured eyes, "I'm assuming you'll be driving it too on occasions. So…should we?"

"Well, I mean, sure," Jason shrugged, scratching his buzzcut, "It's a beautiful car. Expensive though."

"I can afford one," Christian insisted, looking at Jason again, "Should we?"

"It's your decision," Jason reminded him, "…but it's fucking stunning haha, I'm not going to say ' _no_ ' to a ride in one of those."

"Oh…but what about the Ferrari?" Christian mused, stroking his arm, "I do already have a Ferrari."

"Fuck the Ferrari; the Audi is newer and sexier," Jason pointed out with that smirk again, stroking the vehicle's tires tenderly, "0-60 in 3 seconds, 552 bhp, V10 engine…phew."

Christian laughed, "I'm so glad you're a car man too, Taylor," he admitted, shaking his head at the lustful expression Jason appeared to develop as he studied the car's engine curiously.

* * *

"Would you mind if I call my daughter, Sir?" Taylor asked as he drove them out of the carpark, Kimmy waving in the background as they pulled out back onto the road to civilisation.

"Of course you can, Taylor," Christian said, looking at the back of Taylor's head, "I didn't realise you had a daughter. How old is she?"

"Two and a bit," Jason said with a sigh, "She's getting too big for my liking."

"Do you see much of her?" Christian asked curiously, catching the man's eyes in the rearview mirror. Earlier they'd seemed green but Christian was sure they appeared to be more bluey-grey now which was odd.

"Not really," Jason admitted, "My ex-wife and I share custody. Our relationship is pretty decent; we want the best for Sophie."

"Beautiful name. Sophie," Christian smiled, encouraging the man to keep talking.

"She's named after my mother, Sofia," Jason explained, indicating to merge the Q7 into the fast lane to overtake a tractor, "Do you mind if I check in with her?"

"Go ahead," Christian insisted, pulling out his own mobile phone and loading up the documents Ros had been sending him, "I've got some emails to read over anyway." He saw Taylor fiddle with the dials on the Q7 screen before settling back in his seat and speeding up to test the car.

"He'o?" someone called in perhaps the cutest little voice Christian had ever heard. He didn't want to look up, focusing on his phone, but he listened to the little voice on the speaker.

"Hey princess!" Taylor called excitedly, in a voice which seemed alien Christian thought.

"Daddy!" Sophie called excitedly, "Daddy mines getting to da, um, a, um a kitty!"

"Mommy is getting you a kitty?" Taylor translated expertly, never dropping the excitement in his tone, "And what do kitties say?"

"Pussy-puss-puss!" Sophie declared loudly, Taylor just laughing. Christian laughed too, biting the inside of his cheek so that he didn't interrupt Jason's phonecall.

"Close enough, Beautiful," Jason chuckled, "Well what are we going to call your Kitty cat?" he asked.

"Justin."

"Oh come on, Sophie, you'll make your daddy cry with all this Justin Bieber stuff!" Taylor said with a mock whimper.

"Me loves Justin!" Sophie insisted, "Daddy, do we going to boat and see mermaids?"

"Are we going to take a boat out onto the Sound and look for mermaids?" Jason echoed after translating once more.

"Yes!" Sophie confirmed eagerly.

"Oh I don't know. That depends; have you been going poop in the potty?" Jason asked, pulling into the slow lane again and switching on cruise control as they neared the city again.

"Sometimes," Sophie said and Christian could hear her unamused tone that she was being bargained with for her boat trip, "but, but, but mommy says I don' have a to poop in mine potty!"

"Mommy says you don't have to use your potty?" Jason translated with a disapproving tone, clearly an expert in understanding toddler speech. Christian wasn't so good at understanding young children, something he'd noticed when Mia grew up a little more; he just couldn't' understand the broken, jumbled English so well, "I don't think you're telling me the truth there, Miss Taylor."

"I's poopy on mommy's shoe!" Sophie suddenly declared gleefully, clapping her hands in the background.

"Sophie Taylor," a woman suddenly called, taking the phone from Sophie, "Hey Jason, it's me. That is not what happened. We were driving back from softplay and she decided she needed a pee and couldn't wait to get home so we went on the side of the road. She just didn't realise she needed a poop too and because I was holding her, my shoes were in the firing line."

"Really, Lynn?" Jason laughed heartfully, "Sophie that's so funny. You're a funny girl."

"Me knows," Sophie said proudly when she got the phone back and Christian found himself beginning to laugh, "Daddy if me's gets ten poops in mine potty we goes mermaid spotting?"

"If you get ten poops in the potty _and_ mommy says you've been a good girl then yes, we'll get a borrow of a boat and go out onto the Sound to see if we can see Mermaids. Ten poops though. Proper poops too," Jason concluded, looking back at Christian in the rearview mirror and mouthing 'Escala or Work?'

"Escala," Christian whispered, putting his phone away. It was too late in the day to go to GEH and do anything productive anyway and the truth was that Christian felt so much better for sleeping in that little later and taking a day off. It had been so long since he'd done either, even choosing to work Sundays to ensure the company continued to grow.

"Okay! Mommy I goes make poopy. Come watch me!" Sophie yelled, running away by the sound of her stomping feet in the background.

"Thanks for that, Jason; you've just made my weekend. Watching our daughter poop was exactly what I wanted to do," the woman, Lynn Christian assumed, called with obvious sarcasm.

Jason laughed, "Sorry, Lynn."

"I don't think you are sorry, Jas," The woman laughed too, "I'll let you know the score with this potty thing tomorrow. You better get her a boat. All she's talking about is finding Ariel."

"Sorry about that," Jason said, turning left and getting closer to Escala, "We'll find Ariel though. I promise. Or we'll have fun looking. I'll speak to you later?"

"I'll text you," Lynn said, both saying goodbye and hanging up.

"Your daughter sounds adorable," Christian insisted the minute that Jason hung up using the button on the steering wheel, "Potty training?"

"Yup," Jason smiled proudly, "She's dry pretty much but some of the older girls in her childcare club told her that girls don't shit. So she's been having a lot of accidents lately. We're back to square one."

"Kids are cruel," Christian nodded, "I wasn't potty completely until I was nearly six," he said, remembering how hard Grace and Carrick had worked to get him to achieve his milestones at long last, "She'll grow out of it though."

"I hope so," Jason nodded, "We can only be patient."

Christian nodded and had to agree. Had Grace and Carrick not taken their time to help him overcome the traumas of his past, Christian couldn't imagine where he would have ended up. The nightmares still haunted him, as did the constant flashbacks, but there was no denying that the Greys had saved him.

"I'm going to park in the garage, Sir," Taylor said, back to work mode now as he indicated to pull into the underground carpark.

"No problem, Taylor," Christian said, going back to looking at his mobile phone as they entered the garage and reverse parked into the space which once housed the Mercedes who was all but a distant memory to Christian now that he had this shiny new toy at his disposal.

"I was going to watch the Mariners game tonight," Taylor commented as he turned off the engine, "Would you like to watch too?"

Christian frowned and looked Jason in the eye via the rearview mirror again. Now, in this lighting, the man's eyes looked an interesting murky brown with flecks of green. It was curious how they appeared to change colour, Christian thought as he looked at Jason.

"Sure," he nodded, "I'll be honest; I'm not a big baseball player; I'm not up to date with the rules."

Taylor smirked, looking at Christian teasingly again, as though mocking Christian for his lack of sporting knowledge, "I can teach you the rules, Sir."

"I'm sure you will, _Mr_ Taylor," Christian rebottled, getting out the car.


	8. Chapter 8

**WARNING; Rated M for future m/m and adult themes, this is _NOT_ going to be a CG/Ana fic. This will be a CG/Taylor**

 **Chapter 8;**

Considering he'd woken as late as he had today, Christian felt fantastic. He'd never once slept in for work, nor had he slept in for his education. As much as he'd despised school, he despised poor punctuality more and so even at his most hungover he'd drag his ass into class.

He'd thought that missing work would have given him some serious anxiety pangs. Even just the thought of relinquishing control of his company for more than a few hours would usually give him goosebumps but he could feel the benefits taking a day off had given him.

He didn't feel so exhausted like normal since he'd managed to grab a few extra hours sleep. There wasn't that overbearing feeling of panic either; he'd been with Taylor all day, and away from GEH and his usual routine so the stalker or whoever was out there sending him death threats wouldn't get him. Hopefully. After a good lunch and a shot in the new Q7, Christian was feeling more himself. Perhaps he should consider taking a day off every so often? The health benefits were evident after just one day off, after all.

Or perhaps it was having Taylor around which had brought Christian's internal anxieties right down?

The man had promised to keep Christian safe, after all, and all today he'd been friendly and talkative. If Taylor wasn't on the payroll, Christian would have genuinely believed that the man with the odd colour changing eyes had actually wanted to be in Christian's company today.

That was a thought which made Christian's chest tighten a little, particularly as he recalled Jason's invite to watch the baseball with him in his downtime. Christian couldn't remember the last time someone had asked for his company; even Elliot found Christian to be a mood killer lately.

He decided to continue his day of relaxation by taking an early shower once he and Taylor returned from picking up the Q7. He collected his Bluetooth speaker to play music to add to the relaxation felt as the warm jets struck his body.

All thoughts of death threats, of stalkers, of childhood memories were lost as he ran his fruity scented shampoo through his copper waves and tilted his face directly towards the water. Maybe tonight he wouldn't wake up screaming? As it stood right now, Christian was feeling incredibly at peace and ...content. Content was a good word to describe himself in that very moment; he'd slept, he'd eaten and he was warm and felt safe. Tomorrow would bring him back to reality but until then he wanted to enjoy this unplanned respite.

He rinsed himself off and walked into his bedroom, drying himself down before pulling on a pair of Fair Isle flannel bottoms he'd received from his mom last Christmas at his old place. Even as her babies vacated the nest, Grace insisted they receive 'pyjamas' on Christmas Eve. It was adorable, Christian enjoyed humouring her but Elliot refused to wear them.

Pulling on a white t-shirt, Christian headed back out into the main foyer. Taylor had gone ahead and heated up the meal Gail had left them both before she'd clocked out for the day; a tuna pasta which smelt delicious and reminded Christian of his rumbling stomach.

"I hope you don't mind me plating up?" Taylor said, looking Christian directly in the eye.

No one seemed to do that anymore, Christian realised, not even his parents. Grace and Carrick had learned to distance themselves from Christian as he'd aged and allowed him to do his own thing. Unlike Mia and Elliot, Christian believed he was independent enough to take on the world alone without his parent's attempts at comfort and support. Elena was perhaps the only person in the world who didn't dance around Christian and stared directly into his eyes; she had a way of controlling a Sub just through unspoken eye-contact, something Christian himself was yet to master.

"Not at all, Taylor. Mrs Jones left this for us both," Christian replied, pouring himself a wine to accompany his meal. He picked up his plate and approached the oddly placed sofa Taylor was sitting at.

Again, he was reminded about his need to have Escala decorated. He'd been living here for a short while now but he'd nothing to really show for it, besides a room for his Sub and his playroom. He needed colour schemes, matching furniture to fill the vast space, canvases or photographs or something to break up the blank walls. His attention was completely focused on the actual business itself that he was neglecting his home life. Now that Taylor lived here, Christian felt more obligated to have things brought up to scratch and at least get the second bathroom functioning. Eventually he'd have the apartment through the other side of the building converted into a 'Granny Annex' of sorts for Gail and Taylor to use as they needed.

"You sure you're alright watching the Mariners?" Taylor asked, turning on the television. It was Christian's old television from his room in Grace and Carrick's house so it was nowhere near as fancy as it should be for being in this gorgeous building.

"Sure," Christian nodded, placing his glass of wine down on the floor by the sofa, "Would you like a drink?"

"I won't drink while I'm working," Taylor said firmly, reminding Christian that Taylor was not his friend as it appeared but rather his paid protection.

It was amazing how such a notion made Christian feel oddly rejected as he turned to face Taylor. It was then that Taylor picked up a bottle of tomato ketchup from by his feet and completely desecrated Gail's lovely tuna bake with red.

His plate was practically flooded with the stuff, Christian's mouth dropping in horror as Taylor casually swept a piece of tuna steak through the red and ate it. The look of disgust on Christian's face must have been noticeable because Taylor turned to Christian and then hesitated on his second mouthful.

"…What?" he asked Christian, cocking an eyebrow curiously as he put his fork down.

"I can't believe how much ketchup you just poured over that," Christian frowned and shook his head, "That's horrendous."

"I like ketchup."

"No one likes that much ketchup," Christian argued, "Geez. That stuff is just tomato puree and sugar, you know that right?"

"I spent a lifetime in the Marines being shot at; do you think I give a fuck about the risks of sugar?" Taylor joked though Christian didn't see the funny side. Instead, Christian was reminded of the sight of Taylor coming out of the shower with only a towel wrapped around his waist. His muscular body had been marred with small white scars, bullet wounds Christian was sure. How close to death had this man danced in his past life?

"Better not let Gail see you've for that much sauce in her food," Christian mumbled, turning to look at the baseball as he took a bite of his own delicious dinner, "Or she will shoot you and not miss."

"I don't doubt that," Taylor joked and fixed Christian with that crooked smirk, a root beer in hand now instead of his heavily abused ketchup. He wasn't a handsome man in the traditional sense but he had a strong jaw and a ruggedness which Christian himself lacked.

Grace would call him handsome, Christian was sure. His mother dearest liked a manly man and was usually first in line to watch any movies where Bruce Willis took on the world. Christian was sure she'd see something she liked in Taylor too. He'd need to make a note to remind her that Taylor was staff and not to flirt. Mia too for that matter.

Hmmm, Christian thought as he watched the baseball with a lack of interest, he'd need to be vigilant about how the woman in his life would react to Taylor's alpha dog presence.

* * *

At some point, Christian must have fallen asleep beside Taylor because when he awoke from his nap his legs were stretched out across Taylor's lap and his cushion pillow had a very damp drool spot. Christian went to quickly remove his legs, utterly embarrassed by his behaviour, but the man had his notepad propped against them like a table and was making notes with an intense expression. The television was on mute but the game was still going despite Taylor's attention now focused on what was on his iPad screen.

"Sorry," Christian yawned and went to pull his legs away more slowly from his bodyguard's warm lap.

Taylor looked up at Christian as though he had two heads, "What? No. You've nothing to apologise for," he insisted and closed his notepad to study him, "You're tired, Mr Grey, and I'd rather you attempted to sleep. Rest brings strength."

"I shouldn't have made myself comfortable on you like that," Christian explained, shaking his head as he wet his lips with the wine he'd left on the floor. It was room temperature now, not chilled like it had first been which made Christian realise he'd been out for a while, "What are you doing?"

"Looking over some more of your death threats. I've got a guy who's looking through a database to see if the writing style matches up with anyone already known to the system," Taylor said, then turned and looked directly at Christian with those odd colour shifting eyes, "Don't worry. You've not received any more. I'm just further exploring the ones you have received already."

Christian nodded and let out a breath he didn't realise he'd been holding the moment Taylor said 'death threats'.

"Is…do…have you seen anything?" Christian asked curiously, sitting up and looking over Taylor's shoulder at his iPad.

"I'm pretty certain the sender is the same person," Taylor informed him, "It reads the same; there's the same feeling to the words and the style it's written in, both physically and linguistically. My guy will run them through a specialist database. It's a shot in the dark but the SPD aren't taking this as seriously as I'd like to see them."

Taylor squeezed his knee cap then, fixing him with a confident and reassuring smile, "It's all going to work out fine. I promise."

Christian nodded but was becoming increasingly aware of the hand on his knee and those charming mixed coloured eyes staring into his. They looked green again in this light, with speckles of blue and hazel thrown into the canvas. Again, Christian felt a sudden connection to this man. His stomach became bubbly and queasy and his dick of all things, twitched in... Anticipation?

But what the fuck was there to anticipate?

Both Christian and Taylor were heterosexual. His bodyguard had a kid and a wife. There was no reason to feel a spark, no reason at all and it embarrassed Christian that he found himself lowering his eyes to Taylor's lips.

Christian shook his head and pulled away from Taylor's comforting hand. He was just sexually frustrated, Christian decided. He hadn't been laid in forever with all that was going on. There had been no time to find a sub and organise the necessary contracts and documents. He would head down to the Club this weekend and try and rectify his situation. Male, female, he didn't care; he'd find a new sub to his fancy and he'd have his way with them and remove whatever sexual frustration he was experiencing.

Taylor cleared his throat and averted his eyes to his empty pasta dish rested on the arm of the sofa, "I am just going to use the bathroom then call it a night," he said and stood, taking both plates to the sink on his way to Christian's en suite.

Christian took that moment to stare at the man's powerful back. There was not a single angle of this man which wasn't impressive and which didn't scream alpha male. However, he'd looked just as unsure of himself in that single moment and was clearly retreating from Christian.

It got Christian wondering: _Had Taylor felt the same connection too?_


	9. Chapter 9

**WARNING; Rated M for future m/m and adult themes, this is** _ **NOT**_ **going to be a CG/Ana fic. This will be a CG/Taylor**

 **Chapter 9;**

The bite of the binds around his wrists did wicked things to Jason's cock. He took in a deep, ragged breath, his eyes narrowed and staring directly down upon the dark wooden floor. Somewhere, in the red shadowy corner he assumed, a speaker was playing a sweet and almost loving melody. He'd no idea what the song was, his music dossier didn't extend much past Aerosmith, but he decided that it was beautiful and emotive and a song which would haunt him in his dreams.

He was told not to look up by Master but he did, looking directly at his shackled wrists, held tightly above him on the suspension grid located to the far left of Grey's Emporium of Wonders. He'd never been this vulnerable and exposed before in sex. In the past he'd experimented with his ex-wife; cuffs, floggers, blindfolds, a misplaced finger or two all of which he'd enjoyed; but never this. Never something so drastic as this.

Yet he was aroused and aching and desperate for Master to return, to touch him again.

"I told you to keep your eyes on the ground."

Jason quickly did as asked as Master re-entered the playroom and closed the door tightly behind him. He wanted to apologise but apologising meant speaking and previously he was told that he was not allowed to speak unless permission was granted.

"I do not like being disobeyed. What have you got to say for yourself?"

Jason didn't look up but he did focus on Grey's toes which were directly in front of him.

"I was worried you'd left me hanging in here," Jason admitted because it was a truth; Grey had disappeared once he'd strapped Jason's arms above him on the grid, "I am sorry for disobeying you."

"Are you really sorry, or are you lying to me, Mr Taylor?"

Jason felt his hackles rise and anger boil through his blood; he despised being 'Mister'-ed and Grey knew that for a fact.

In response, Jason completely rejected his orders and snapped his head up, glaring directly into Christian Grey's beautiful grey eyes. He looked gorgeous, like no other man Jason had met. Heck, Jason was certain that beside the definitions of 'Grace', 'Beauty' and 'Allurement' there would be an image of Grey in any dictionary because the man was stunning. His face was perfectly formed without a single flaw, his hair was a unique and healthy growth of copper which, although short, was tussled slightly. There was no stubble to mask the man's strong jaw and he'd the single most perfect set of lips Jason had witnessed.

How desperately he wanted to kiss those lips…

"I'm not sorry at all, Chrissy," Jason challenged and saw Christian's eyebrows knit together in a frown which only deepened when Jason winked and gave him that crooked smirk which seemed to antagonise the businessman.

"You should be sorry," Christian challenged and grabbed Jason's throat with a grip which didn't quite strangle him but definitely took control of his head, "You should be," he repeated and crashed his lips down upon Jason's in a kiss which blew open all the doors in Jason's mind.

The man's tongue tangled against Jason's and it was all Jason could do but try and kiss back with just as much force as Christian. He felt the younger man's arm snake around the back of Jason's head to hold him in place whilst the other took a no-prisoners hold of Jason's junk.

He yelped in surprise but Grey maintained the kiss and didn't let him go no matter how hard Jason attempted to pull away. The grip on his balls and dick wasn't painful but it was possessive and powerful and had taken Jason by complete surprise.

"Are you sorry for disobeying me?" Christian whispered against Jason's ear, biting his ear lobe gently whilst his vice grip on Jason's junk merged into something softer and more pleasant; a very teasing handjob which soon became maddeningly too slow for Jason.

"No," he growled defiantly, Christian's hand pumping faster and faster in rebottle. Jason's eyes started to roll back as he felt his balls beginning to tighten with an impending ejaculation. Despite his best efforts, Jason began to roll his hips towards Christian's hand, biting his tongue. He felt Christian walk around his body and press himself flat against Jason's back, jerking him off from behind him.

"You better not cum, Mr Taylor," Grey hissed against the back of Jason's neck, his hand speeding up now, "You're not allowed to cum."

"Please," Jason found himself asking, ignoring the Mister and groaning as Grey's hand let go of his pulsing cock and grabbed his balls tightly, "No, please."

"What makes you think you deserve to cum?" Grey pressed, his free hand now working behind Jason to unfasten those unusual ripped jeans he was wearing, "I told you to keep your eyes on the floor and I caught you disobeying you. You then called me 'Chrissy' and not Master or 'Sir'. Do you think that sort of behaviour deserves orgasm?"

"No Sir," Jason moaned now, dying to finish, antsy that he was being denied climax whilst Grey's hand fondled his balls, "I'm sorry, Master."

"You should be sorry," Grey mumbled, biting Jason's shoulder hard, "I'm going to fuck you now, Jason. I'm going to fuck you so hard you can't walk for days," he hissed. Jason felt Grey's dick against his ass, the hand on his balls now back on his cock and pumping him at a faster pace.

"I've never," Jason started but shuddered as Grey kissed his neck softly, gently, with a sudden compassion which he hadn't thought the man would give him for his disobedience.

"It's okay," Grey mumbled, slowly pushing his dick inside Jason's ass. He was going slowly, but Jason didn't feel any pain. In fact, he felt fucking amazing as Grey somehow managed to get his whole dick inside Jason first attempt, that hand working magic on Jason's own cock in a rhythm which met Grey's thrusting.

"I'm going to cum," Jason warned, leaning his large body back against Christian's, panting loudly.

"I want to see you cum," Grey growled authoritatively, "Cum, Taylor, Cum."

"Oh Sh-i-i-i-t!"

* * *

Jason gasped as he woke, in bed, alone and sticky. His heart was still racing and his wrists still felt heavy and tight, as though they were really shackled to Grey's suspension grid. He sat up and turned on the lamp by his bedside table, catching a glimpse of his alarm clock. It was four am and Escala was completely quite. All Jason could hear was the sound of his blood coursing through his body.

He pulled back his bedsheets slowly, worried about what he knew he was going to find; he'd cum all over his bedsheets, chest and thighs.

"Shit," he huffed and flopped back down against his pillow, closing his eyes with another curse "Fucking hell. This is so fucked up."

He couldn't remember the last time he'd had a wet dream; maybe when he was a teenager? Jason had certainly not had one recently, that was for sure and it was embarrassing enough without even taking into consideration the nature of the damn dream.

Never, in Jason's whole life, had he ever dreamt he was being fucked by a man. Never. He was seriously struggling to comprehend the dream and why in God's name he'd gotten off by the idea of his boss fucking him whilst giving him a reach around. What did that mean? Jason had no idea and he was incredibly freaked out by the doors the dream had opened. Was he gay? Was he bi? Was he a pervert? Was he a deviant? What the fuck was he?

Sticky was the obvious answer right now, Jason joked to himself as he carefully pulled himself free from the soiled sheets. He remembered suddenly Gail's message to him when he'd questioned Grey's bedwetting habits to the house keeper;

 _'If you have any washing of a questionable nature, all I ask is that you put it in the right area and give me a heads up.'_

It was like Gail Jones could see the future and knew Jason was going to spunk it all over his sheets after an overly erotic dream of his boss fucking him in the arse.

"Jesus Christ," Jason muttered as he stripped the sheets from his duvet and mattress, balling them up and chucking them to the floor. Next, he looked at the residual load he'd managed to get on his chest and thighs. He desperately wanted a shower but the only working bathroom was the boss's ensuite. For a brief moment, he contemplated using the kitchen sink to sponge off the spunk in his abdomen hair but decided that he'd be better to just hang off until the morning and have a good soak down.

He always kept a packet of tissues spare and so was able to get the worst of the mess from his hair, gagging when he noticed he'd somehow managed to soil his goddamn belly button. Thank god there were no witnesses to this, Jason thought. Had there been, he was certain he'd have permanently silenced them with his Glock.

Cleaned-ish, Jason pulled his naked duvet over his body and attempted to rationalise his thoughts and feelings. He wished his ex-wife, Lyndsay, were here to talk it through with him. She was a wonderful woman, after all, and incredibly mothering and kind. She'd been a nurturer to Jason and had always helped him talk through his thoughts and feelings. Being in the Marine Corps for as long as he had, Jason had been conditioned to be almost robotic, and he'd never been a talker before his service. Lynn recognised this and had always helped him find his voice when he needed to talk about something important to him.

If she were here, she'd tell him he was just a horny fucker and one single wet dream about a man was not evidence that he was gay in the slightest. He was straight, Jason was certain. He was a Marine, a Son and a Father. Being gay just wasn't for him, of that he was certain.

That didn't mean that he was homophobic, being gay just wasn't a lifestyle he wanted for himself and having just one single dream about being fucked by his kinky-ass boss was not going to have him parading down 4th Avenue in a rainbow wig.

Satisfied that he'd thought through his dream, Jason rolled over and picked up his mobile phone which was charging on the bedside unit to his left. Carefully, he pulled it from the mains and settled back down in bed to watch a little porn. He wasn't particularly horny now if he was being honest with himself but he felt like he needed to prove to himself that he wasn't gay by rectifying his last action; jerking off to the most hardcore video he could find of a man fucking a woman.

And once he was happy that he felt 'straighter', Jason would get up, wash his sheets and then begin his daily exercise before Grey awoke to go on his morning run. Nothing was different, nothing had changed. He was still Jason Taylor and he had a job to do which he would not allow himself to be blind sighted from.


	10. Chapter 10

**WARNING; Rated M for future m/m and adult themes, this is** _ **NOT**_ **going to be a CG/Ana fic. It will be a CG/Taylor**

 **Chapter 10;**

"You certainly picked some serious eye candy, Christian," Elena said as she sipped her cocktail and looked at Taylor over her large rimmed sunglasses. She licked her crimson red lips suggestively and Christian had to look away, staring over his shoulder at his bodyguard.

He was sitting at the glass patio table under the cool shade of one of Elena's large parasols. It was an uncharacteristically hot day and he'd had to take his suit jacket off, loosening his tie as he worked. That big body of his was hunched over copies of all the death threats Christian had received to date, writing notes in that familiar little leather bound notepad of his, each threat kept in a plastic wallet in a large folder he'd began to assemble of the 'case'. He'd told Christian that he wasn't comfortable with how slowly the Seattle Police Department were working and so had decided to do his own detective work, something which he also offered clients as part of his security service, apparently. He'd been liaising with the Inspector running the investigation, sharing information and advice on a secure line. Taylor still believed that there was a chance one of Christian's ex Subs was to blame; they were the only people who knew enough information about Christian to warrant threats. However, Inspector Graham wasn't so sure.

Taylor's little notebook had become a frequent sight around Escala and GEH these last few days; everything Jason felt needed recorded went down in his little notepad which he kept in his blazer chest pocket religiously. He'd organised the beginnings of the security changes to both buildings and was working pretty much tirelessly to continue to improve all matters of safety around Christian which was very much appreciated.

For the first time in what felt like years, Christian was sleeping a couple of hours straight, rather than his familiar broken insomniac slumber, and he attributed that positive effect on Taylor's moving in and sleeping relatively close to Christian. Escala felt safer at night now. The shadows no longer scared him like they had once done. It made Christian wonder if he should perhaps explore finding a roommate once the death threat culprit was apprehended. Or maybe he should leave _The Lifestyle_ and attempt to sustain a relationship like Mia and Elliot?

Fat chance, Christian thought as he continued to watch Taylor working. Maybe Taylor could stay once the danger was over and become a fulltime bodyguard on a permanent contract? That thought appealed to him more than a roommate or a relationship, Christian realised.

It infuriated him how little he knew about Taylor, but why the hell should Christian care? Taylor was just a working colleague and Christian didn't really care to know the ins and outs of his employees' lives. Why did knowing nothing about Taylor in particular bother him so much?

Perhaps it was because Taylor knew everything humanly possible about Christian? All he knew about the man was that he had a young daughter at toilet training age and an ex-wife who he appeared to be in a civil co-parenting partnership with. He was formerly in the US Marine Corps and Christian believed, from his attitude and secrecy when asked about his military background, he'd ended his career at a high rank; possibly even at a clandestine level. Taylor had a few things he'd openly admitted to liking; baseball and cars. Like Christian he was originally from Detroit and had washed cars in his youth.

After nearly a week of twenty-four hour co-existing, that was all Christian knew of the man and it was utterly infuriating because Taylor knew everything physically possible about Christian. He knew that Christian was adopted from a neglectful home, that he was a college dropout yet now owned one of the biggest growing companies in America. Taylor also knew that this sudden shot to fame had resulted in Christian receiving death threats and that those, twinned with the horrible sensation of being followed, were really having an effect on Christian's mental health. The fact that Taylor had stepped foot inside Christian's Playroom was also off putting and was a large part of the reason that Christian felt so cheated by the unfair amount of privacy he'd had to give up to Taylor. It felt incredibly one-sided, regardless as to whether this was a professional arrangement or not.

Christian had no secrets from Taylor, there was nothing confidential to Christian any more but his own opinions, thoughts and feelings. And thank goodness Taylor couldn't hear those, Christian thought as he watched as Taylor pulled a pair of aviators from somewhere on his person and looked directly at Christian.

"Sorry what?" Christian puzzled, looking back at his dear friend as they enjoyed light drinks in her small but sunlit back garden. She lived relatively close to his parents but her house was notably smaller than theirs. It was the perfect size for her and her Slaves who usually weren't far away. Unlike Christian, Elena enjoyed having multiple submissives around her at all times. One man was currently serving them drinks right now, another Sub was currently cleaning her toilet. These people would willingly work for Elena and do exactly what she wanted. Christian knew that from personal experience; he'd once been one of her slaves. If Elena had told him to organise her spice rack for her with a vibrating buttplug up his asshole then he'd jump to it because Mistress rewarded him with sex if he did a good job doing his chores.

"Taylor," Elena winked, nodding towards the bodyguard again, "He's a real showstopper. Serious prime beef. I told you to get a bodyguard; not a stripper."

"He's not a stripper," Christian grumbled, though he remembered the sight of Taylor in his military issue tighty whities. All muscle, not a single inch of fat anywhere on his body. It was an image which Christian had struggled to remove from his mind, confusing his whole world. He no longer pictures himself punishing his Submissive women but rather fantasised about wiping that infuriatingly patronising side smirk from Taylor's lips.

Christian let himself gaze back over at the rugged man who looked up again as though he'd heard Elena discussing him.

"Yeah he's pretty spectacular," Christian shrugged, meeting Jason's eyes once more. That day, back in the playroom, he'd really got a closer look at Jason's face and body and Christian had noticed how peculiar Jason's eyes were. For the most part they appeared a dull blue-grey colour, but in the light of his playroom Christian was sure they'd been more greeny than anything. Today they appeared to be a clear blue with hazel flecks. There was never one day where they looked the same as when he'd last seen them. Christian couldn't honestly tell what colour of eyes Taylor had though all he could see right this moment was his own reflection from the man's sunglasses. And boy did Christian look desperate.

"He's hot," Elena mused and Christian turned to face her once more, "I wouldn't mind bossing him around, Christian."

"I'm not so sure he'd like being told what to do; he's caused a lot of upset with the HR department at GEH," Christian said and massaged the bridge of his nose as he remembered how angry Stacy from Human Resources had been when Taylor roared at the carpark security guard, Jack Whiteland. It was a justified attack on Jack's lack of motivation on what was perhaps one of the most important jobs in the building, but Stacy was also right in that Jason needed to learn how to deliver a telling off in a less aggressive and dominant manner.

 _Dominant._

Suddenly, Christian remembered the day in the Playroom with Jason again. The large man's reaction to the riding crop, how he'd asked to be strapped into the frame…

 _"I've been part of this lifestyle for a long time. What do you use a crop for, Mr Taylor?"_

 _"What makes you think I was the one that used the crop?"_

Watching the man shackled onto the grid, trying for escape using brute strength and failing had turned Christian on. He'd learned to be open minded and fluid in _The Lifestyle_ and so wasn't terribly troubled by finding a man attractive; considering his vast collection of whips, floggers, chains and shackles, being attracted to a man was not the oddity in his love life. But he had found himself being startled by how much he'd wanted to take one of those riding crops over Jason's powerful body whilst he'd been trapped.

And then Jason spread his legs wide and leant forward in a prone position to try and topple the grid structure with his weight. That had been like a lightning bolt to Christian's cock. It had taken every ounce of his will power not to further act.

It wouldn't have been the first time Christian had used crops and toys on a male before if he had though. To be the best at what he did, Christian had done the rounds of several BDSM clubs and had experienced many differing aspects of fetishism, particularly with Elena's guidance. The men which he'd encountered were harder to break than women, perhaps because biologically their bodies were stronger and could endure more. Or maybe they saw another man with a flogger and felt it a challenge?

Christian didn't know.

He'd never slept with a man before, however, he'd only dominated them for practice and exploration purposes. He'd never felt the urge to move past the bondage element when men were considered which was why he couldn't understand what it was about Taylor hanging on the grid which had really excited him. He'd shocked himself at how dirty his mind had gone, watching his protector dangling on the frame. Perhaps it was the vulnerability element? Christian wasn't a stranger to finding that exciting in his submissives.

Taylor wasn't a traditionally handsome man either. He was strong and muscular, sure, but he'd a face like a professional boxer and he had an energy about him which was powerful but bordering on arrogance. However he was the definition of safety to Christian, and after living such an isolated lifestyle, it was really nice to have another body living around him.

"Christian, your mind wandered there," Elena cooed and tapped his cocktail with her fingernail.

Christian realised he was still staring at Taylor's sunglasses again and felt himself blush, clearing his throat and looking back at Elena, "What was the question?"

"No question," Elena smirked, "I was just saying that Mr Taylor over there is a fine specimen of a male."

"He hates being called Mr Taylor," Christian pointed out, "Taylor works just as well for him."

"Taylor," Elena repeated and then cocked an eyebrow, "Christian, you're ogling him."

"No I'm not. I'm making sure he's doing what I pay him to do," Christian grumbled and looked back at Elena, "That's all."

"If you're sure," Elena shrugged, knowing not to push Christian into talking about something which made him uncomfortable, "Has there been any more leads on those letters?"

"No," Christian admitted with a reluctant sigh, staring now at the little pool in front of them. Elena, for all her demons, had been the first and only person besides the police and Jason to know about the death threats. She'd been the one who'd actually insisted that Christian hire a bodyguard and she'd put him in touch with that Welch guy to organise interviews. She was worried for him and tried to call him every day to ensure whoever was writing these notes hadn't gotten him.

"There haven't been any more recently, if that's anything," Christian added and picked up his cocktail, taking a deep drink, "I still get this feeling like I'm being followed however."

"What does Taylor think about that?" Elena asked then added firmly, "I hope he's taking this job seriously, Christian."

"He is, he is," Christian replied, "He's looking over the letters again right now; he's been working with the police department. Apparently the inspector who's working on my case is an old friend so that's…something."

"You know where I am, Christian," Elena said firmly, clapping her hands to get the attention of the Slave who was currently serving them refreshments on demand. She pointed at her empty glass, "You, Worm. Another Mojito. And get Taylor a glass of water." She ordered, using her mistress tone which saw the Slave bow like the worthless submissive that he was. Christian caught Taylor make a face when the Slave, wearing chapless leather shorts, poured him another glass of fresh water.

"How's business going? I read your article in the Financial Times yesterday," Elena smiled, changing the subject to a topic which Christian liked to discuss; GEH.

"Business is going well. I'm about to interview a publishing firm; Seattle Independent Press?" Christian asked, then continued when Elena fixed him with a blank expression, "There a small publicist. I'm interested in exploring that sort of avenue. I think it would provide GEH a strong potential media outlet, given a growth period."

"Sounds…really boring, Christian," Elena laughed, "But it's good to see you're so passionate about it."

"I am; I think this will be a really smart investment. I'm meeting with their editor to get a feel for their company," Christian continued, "A Mr Hyde?"

"I've no idea, Christian; I'm not a reader at all; my knowledge of publicists is very poor," Elena admitted, checking her wrist watch, "Shoot, I might have to chuck you out, Christian. I've got a client coming round. Private domination."

"Celebrity or politician?" Christian asked with a smirk. Elena was a professional in their lifestyle and popular for her discretion. She'd introduced Christian to this lifestyle and offered him an outlet for his youthful angst and anger but whilst mentoring Christian, he'd known her to take private bookings with influential individuals who sought domination in the strictest of privacy settings.

"Celebrity this time; he's becoming a regular," Elena said as she stood up, cracking her wrists, "I had better go and Dom-up. Can you and Taylor see yourselves out?"

"Of course," Christian said, nodding towards Taylor who was already on his feet with his blazer back on over his side arm. Those aviator sunglasses were still firmly in place on his face, hiding his eyes, but Christian could feel Taylor's gaze burning through his skin, "Time to go, Taylor."

Taylor nodded once, ignoring Elena as he led the way back to the Audi, scanning every possible hiding spot before opening the passenger door and allowing Christian to jump inside. He slammed it behind Christian before walking round the front of the vehicle and climbing into the driver's side.

"Where to?" he asked with a low grunt.

"Home," Christian replied, "I think I've had enough time in the son today. I'd like to go home and do some more reading about SIP."

"Good," Taylor said and then fell silent. No conversation, no more eye contact, no more acknowledgement of Christian's presence in the car with him. The silence was irritating. Taylor had never been a talker but in the last few days it was nearly impossible to get more than a few sentences out of him. Christian had no idea what he could have possibly done to warrant the cold treatment.

After ten minutes of silence and gazing out the window, Christian turned to stare at the back of Taylor's buzzcut, "Have I offended you in anyway, Mr Taylor?"

Christian saw the man tense, like always.

"Well now you have, Chrissy," Taylor growled, making a right turn as they approached Escala, "I told you not to call me that."

"That's the most you've said to me in the last few days," Christian observed, "I'm trying to evoke some sort of reaction from you."

"So you thought pissing me off was the best way to go about that?" Taylor pressed and a nasty tone.

"You've the emotional density of a rock. I bet the only way to get a reaction from you is to either piss you off or turn you on," Christian said, catching Taylor's reflection in the rearview mirror. He was still wearing his sunglasses but there was something about how he suddenly looked which confused Christian; had Christian hit another nerve with this giant cave man? Was there a truth in what had been meant as playful banter?

He said nothing for the duration of the ride after that comment, pulling into Escala and parking wordlessly. He climbed out first and explored their surroundings before opening Christian's door. The lot was oddly empty for a Friday though given the beautiful weather Christian could understand why everyone who shared the building would go out for a little bit.

Taylor walked ahead as though he were in a hurry to get away from Christian. Together, they entered the small elevator and both went to hit the code for Christian's floor. Their hands touched and Christian felt Taylor physically recoil and pull his hand away.

"Sorry," he grumbled and stood back, assuming an all masculine stance with his legs slightly parted and his hands in his pockets. It was his usual stance, a quirk Christian had noticed about the man; he stood in a manner which exuded the air of complete all male confidence and control. He was very much an alpha male, Christian had learnt that quickly, and so that was possibly why Christian wanted to go over his body in the Playroom; turn him into a submissive and teach him who was really in control.

The elevator opened with a bing and Christian stepped out after Taylor, Gail stood in the kitchen and waiting for them both.

"Mr Grey, Taylor," she smiled, mixing something delicious in a large bowl under her arm, "I picked up some mail for you on my way up. It's on the coffee table, Sir."

"Mail?" Christian asked, his stomach dropping. Taylor cursed under his breath and marched over to the coffee table, exploring the small bundle of letters Gail had laid down for Christian. A couple of the return addresses were recognisable as bills, there was also a letter from the Audi dealer as well as a leaflet about the building's recycling policy, but one letter stood out from the rest and made Christian almost throw up.

"That's the same handwriting as the other envelopes that the threats have been arriving in," Christian admitted to Taylor, glad Gail was out of earshot.

Taylor nodded and pulled a blade from somewhere inside his blazer pocket, "Go and get me Gail's rubber gloves."

Christian didn't need to be asked twice, hurrying to pull the neon yellow rubber from beside the sink, "There you go."

"Thanks," Taylor said quietly, snapping them onto his hands before picking up his knife oncemore, "You might want to stand back. We don't know what's in this letter," he added ominously, Christian stepping back behind Taylor's body as he watched the man carefully run the blade of the knife under the flap of the envelope.

"Slowly," Taylor mumbled to himself, expertly pulling a sheet of off-white card from inside. Carefully, he unfolded the letter and read the newspaper cut letters;

 _He Will Not Save You,_

 _I Know You Hired Protection,_

 _I am watching you._

"Fuck," Christian gulped, fear taking over as he hurried to his bedroom before he was sick on the new carpet.


	11. Chapter 11

**WARNING; Rated M for future m/m and adult themes, this is not going to be a CG/Ana fic. It will be a CG/Taylor**

 **Chapter; 11**

"So the Housekeeper found the letter?"

Jason looked at Inspector Graham and shook his head, "No; the reception hall downstairs is where all post is held until residents collect it themselves. The CCTV downstairs showed the regular postman bringing in the mail; I've got his name for you to follow that lead up."

"Thanks Taylor," Graham sighed, watching as one of his boys carefully took the letter and envelope and placed it in an evidence bag, "How's Grey taking this?"

"This one's shocked him," Jason admitted, placing his hands on his hips, "He's been plagued with the feeling that he's been getting followed and this has just backed up his fear."

The perp knew Christian had hired a bodyguard. That was a terrifying revelation for everyone involved in the safeguard of Grey. Before, the threats had been reasonably generic. A few involved Grey's family but ultimately what was being said –' _your sister and brother will die_ ' _'I will ruin your mom's career'_ \- was common knowledge; anyone could find out that Christian had a brother who ran a construction company, a doctor and a lawmaker for a mother and father, and a sister still trying to find her passion. All it took was the vaguest of social media searches to pull that information.

This latest threat was different. Jason considered himself exceptionally discreet in his work and didn't take payment from his clients until the threat was defused. Whoever had sent this letter had been watching Christian and had known Jason was the man's bodyguard.

But who knew Christian had a bodyguard?

Elena did. As did Gail.

Jason looked back over to the shocked housekeeper trying to steady her hands as she attempted to make a sauce for the steaks she'd promised earlier this morning.

"We'll run prints and analysis on this letter, Taylor, but I'm not holding my breath that we'll get anything," Graham grumbled, running a hand over his bald scalp, "Whoever this guy is, he's good."

"Guy?" Jason queried, thinking of Elena Lincoln and her army of willingly deprived Slaves. What could her motive be?

"Guy, Gal," Graham shrugged, "Tomato, Tomato; they're good and consistent. Same type of card, same newspaper cuttings, same style; short line, long line, short line." Jason nodded; none of this was new information to him, "You still think it could be a woman doing this?"

"I'm open still, Inspector," Jason replied courtly, looking back towards Grey's office. He'd given his account of the whole thing to Inspector Graham but excused himself, hiding away behind his office door where he was, supposedly, finalising some figures. Jason knew otherwise. He knew that Christian was frightened, "Will you keep me updated, Graham?"

"Of course," Graham nodded, shaking Jason's hand, "You'll be the first to hear from my team. If you need anything, you've got my cell."

"Thanks," Jason said and saw the inspector and his team to the elevator out of the building. The apartment was silent once more, despite Gail working away in the kitchen.

"Dinner will be in ten minutes, Taylor," she called out softly, apparently more shaken up by the letter than she was letting on, "Will you let Mr Grey know for me?"

"Gail," Jason said, walking over to the breakfast bar and tapping his nails on the counter, "do you want to take a vacation?"

Gail looked at him, tears in her brown eyes as she shook her head once and then nodded twice. It wasn't fair for someone to be involved in this environment if it could be prevented. Jason could see this woman was trying to be brave but the threat on Christian Grey's life, the knowledge that his antagonist knew he'd hired staff, was all too much.

"I don't want to leave him when he needs me," Gail admitted with a wobbly smile.

"You're not," Jason assured her, squeezing her hand as comfort. His ex-wife had always said he was useless when it came to comforting women; he just didn't know how to handle tears and sobs because they made him feel incredibly awkward, "When this is all over, I will have Christian call you. Until then, I can't promise your safety here; I can only promise Christian's."

"Okay," Gail smiled, laughing weakly, "Thank you, Taylor."

"No problem," Jason said firmly, looking at the steaks sizzling on the frying pan, "I'll finish that and take it through to him."

"Are you sure?" Gail asked, "I can finish them if you want?"

"Get yourself back home to that man of yours. Tell him to keep you safe," Jason said firmly, walking behind the counter to take over for Gail whilst she collected her bag and coat. She waved once and then hurriedly ran, leaving Jason and Christian alone in Grey's high castle.

He sighed to himself and prepared what he'd say to Grey; how he'd attempt to comfort him when Jason himself had the emotional density of…

A rock.

He felt his smile creep up the side of his face as he recalled Christian's bold comment in the Audi earlier. It had shocked him, and at the time he'd had no idea how to react.

 _"Have I offended you in anyway, Mr Taylor?"_

 _"Well now you have, Chrissy. I told you not to call me that."_

 _"That's the most you've said to me in the last few days. I'm trying to evoke some sort of reaction from you."_

 _"So you thought pissing me off was the best way to go about that?"_

 _"You've the emotional density of a rock. I bet the only way to get a reaction from you is to either piss you off or turn you on."_

Jason prided himself on his self-control and his ability to maintain a professional relationship whoever the client. He'd been in many situations where he, as a steady protector, became the focal point of a client's sexual fantasy. Never once had he acted upon any attempts of seduction, nor had he felt the want to break professionalism. Sure, when he needed sex he was able to achieve it by searching the dive bars for the right kind of women, but never once had he gone with a client.

Christian's comment was terrifyingly accurate; particularly given how realistic that dream had been at the beginning of the week. The image of Grey suspending Jason on the grid was still a serious turn on and he'd no idea why. At first he'd managed to convince himself that it was just because he was sexually frustrated; it had been forever since he'd last gotten laid and being in Grey's playroom had obviously had a lasting effect on Jason's mind and body…specifically his dick.

But then their hands brushed in the most cliché of ways when both men went to enter Christian's penthouse cold in the elevator and absolutely Jason felt something deeper than just general sexual frustration. He wanted Grey. Watching Gail's ass as she left…he felt nothing. Watching Christian's? He felt everything which scared him and made him question his professionalism.

Plating up the steak and veg, Jason grabbed forks and knives and headed to Christian's office door.

"Mr Grey?" The man was listening to music, something soft and beautiful. He listened to the tender vocals before knocking again, "Mr Grey, dinner is ready?"

The music switched off and Jason heard the sound of a chair being tucked into its desk. There was further movement before Christian opened the door and stared directly into Jason's eyes, "Where's Gail?"

"Gone," Jason said passively, "I've finished dinner."

"Good," Christian sighed, looking towards the empty kitchen, "I've just had payroll pay her two months wages. I can't have her working for me in this environment right now. It's not safe."

Jason couldn't agree more and was a little shocked by how reflective of the situation Christian was being so soon after his stalking fears were confirmed. Employers had an obligation to ensure the safety of their staff and the working environment. The fact that Christian had paid Gail upfront for her absence had impressed Jason. He'd worked with clients who cut off maids, cooks, cleaners, maintenance keepers and gardeners under Jason's recommendation for safety and they would just suddenly terminate their contracts with no warning. Seeing Christian look out for people's livelihoods was exceptionally refreshing.

"What are we eating?" Christian asked, still staring directly into Jason's eyes which was when Jason realised he'd lost himself to his thoughts of approval.

"Steak," Jason replied, staring into Grey's unworldly grey eyes. This close Jason realised there was no colour in the iris like he'd have expected. No flecks of hazel, no slivers of blue. Just grey. They were beautifully entrancing.

"Medium rare?" Christian pressed.

"I, I think so," Jason coughed and stepped back out of the way of the door, breaking this poetic thoughts on how beautiful Christian's eyes were. They were just eyes, after all, "They're certainly not ruined."

"How do you eat your steak?" Christian asked as he left his office and approached the breakfast bar, "My brother usually has his so overdone he could build a house with it."

"Blue," Jason replied, watching as Christian poured himself a sizable glass of wine before making his way to the sofa. He'd bought a few things for the house this last week and finally Escala was looking less like a warehouse and more like a home. Sleek black sofas, grey cushions and chrome furnishings seemed to be the theme; Gail had lent Christian a woman's touch and arranged the furniture in a way which created something called Feng Shui living. Jason had no concept of what the word meant, nor what she'd achieved in terms of energy and flow, but he'd helped Grey move a few of the heavier pieces which had arrived in their hundreds.

Every box, Jason had vigilantly opened and inspected for security purposes; a time consuming process which had received looks of disproval from Gail and Christian but needs must. Jason's CV stated that he'd never lost a single client and that was all due to his strict rules and regulations; he would not allow his standards to slip because Christian and Gail were wanting to play house. However, everything was in order and he'd done his part by helping Grey with the fiddly bits that Gail insisted needed a 'strong male wrist' to secure. Apparently even the crazy rich received flat pack furniture…only they usually were able to employ goons to fix it for them; Jason wasn't letting anyone into the apartment who hadn't been background checked up to their eyeballs.

"Blue?" Christian echoed, shaking his head in disgust, "Might as well eat it while it's still mooing," he commented as he sat and looked up at Jason.

"I'll take my meat anyway I can get it," Jason said, Grey's eyebrow arching up in amusement. Jason replayed his comment and felt his ears burning red as he realised what he said. Instantly, he recalled the vividness of that homoerotic dream where he'd been suspended and strung out, vulnerable, with Grey working him over with a riding crop and refusing to let him orgasm. Grey's breath on his neck had felt so real that even the memory made Jason's dick twitch. What the fuck was wrong with him?

Grey chewed a mouthful of food to hide his smirk, not commenting on the innuendo like most would. _Aw heck_ , Jason thought and sat beside Grey with his own plate of food and a glass of water.

"What does Sophie eat?" Grey asked, offering Jason a ladder out of this pit he suddenly found himself in.

"Alphabet spaghetti and turkey dinosaurs," Jason replied, glad for the change in subject. Although, he didn't like sharing information about his little Princess usually. For security reasons, he didn't like civilians like Grey knowing too much about his family life for fear that civilians would let slip valuable information which put his ex-wife and Sophie in danger. In his career, Jason had pissed off some incredibly evil people who'd gladly execute his daughter as payback.

"Cute," Christian said, "I didn't know they still made alphabet spaghetti. I loved it as a child."

"My ex's got a pantry dedicated to them," Jason nodded, sawing through his steak and mushing a piece with the steamed vegetables Gail had prepared, "I'll gladly send you a tin but Soph stockpiles them."

"My mom used to give me alphabet spaghetti when I first came to live with her and Carrick," Christian said, "My teeth were all pretty rotten, apparently, so softer foods were all I could manage."

Jason couldn't imagine the state Christian had been in when the authorities had finally found him. It sickened him, particularly with having child as young as Christian had been. How the hell could someone be so fucking neglectful to their flesh and blood? Jason would reenlist and spend a year in the desert in a heartbeat just to be sure his daughter never went hungry.

The man was a warrior; a lesser man would succumb to his childhood trauma but Christian had rose above it and battled on to create a billion dollar company. The level of respect Jason had for the guy was immense. He'd seen what trauma could do to grown as Special Forces men; Christian had taken that hit as a kid.

"What do you think about that new death threat?" Christian asked then, raising an eyebrow again as he picked up his glass of wine and took a sizable gulp, "Are you worried?"

"No," Jason said honestly, "Provided you do as I say, I can keep you alive. I'm not worried at all."

"They know I've hired you," Christian pressed, "They're watching us."

"They know you've hired the best then," Jason argued, "And if they're watching they'll see I don't fuck up."

Christian nodded, taking another drink from his glass before placing it on a coaster on the coffee table in front of them. He appeared to be thinking, his head rested on his chin as he stared towards the blank screen of the television silently. Jason watched him whilst he continued eating, clearing his plate in the time it took for Christian to formulate his words.

"I'm scared for my family," he admitted, "I don't want them involved."

"They wont be," Jason nodded, "These threats…these threats are directed towards you. Your family haven't received a thing. The police have eyes on them at all times but the threat is to you; they're using your family to unnerve you."

Christian nodded, finishing his glass of wine and standing up, taking Jason's plate with him as he walked to the fridge for another drink. He was going to take bad with not having Gail to pick up behind him, Jason realised, smiling a little at that thought.

"I'm trying to be strong here, Taylor," Christian admitted, "But I have a lot of demons and scars from my past. Physical abuse, emotional abuse…I've not had the best start to life. These threats, this entire situation where I feel like I have someone over my fucking shoulder watching me…it's like being back there, in that rancid apartment with my real mom and the men who she whored herself to. It's this overbearing feeling of utter dread and I feel like I can't escape it."

Jason nodded dutifully, not sure of what to say. He himself wasn't much of a talker, nor was he good with being emotionally supportive. It was one of the many reasons his ex-wife had divorced him for.

"With you here, I feel protected. I feel strong and safe," Christian added, looking directly into Jason's eyes, "It's the first time in a long time. I just want you to be aware that I appreciate your presence and I'll try my absolute hardest to adhere to what you need to keep me safe. I'm not very good at doing what someone else tells me to."

Jason nodded, losing himself in Christian's stealing grey eyes, "That's all I ask."


	12. Chapter 12

**WARNING; Rated M for future m/m and adult themes, this is not going to be a CG/Ana fic. It will be a CG/Taylor**

 **Chapter; 12**

Sharing the ensuite bathroom with Taylor was a bizarre and still a complete novelty to Christian. Escala was now starting to resemble something much like a home with furniture and soft furnishings, but there were still plenty of jobs needing done which would require the work of a handyman, though Taylor had put his foot down completely to the notion of letting 'unrequired' visitors access the home. It meant that they should, theoretically, be living on top of each other with only two bedrooms, one working bathroom, a living area, kitchen and a playroom to hide in. The reality was that Christian stayed in his office and Taylor in the security room unless he was checking all the fire doors and windows routinely.

They'd established a strong and unchanging routine where Christian usually used the bathroom first when he awoke and then he'd have breakfast whilst Taylor got his turn of the facilities, provided that Christian didn't want to go running. This methodical routine worked to keep them from awkward domestic situations; the idea of brushing his teeth in one of the twin sinks whilst Taylor lathered up his jaw for a shave felt too…house. Christian already felt a weird connection to this man, there was no reason for him to put himself in a situation where he'd end up getting hurt. Fuck knows it had taken mom and Carrick over a decade for Christian to find himself at a place where he could express some of his emotions.

Taylor was exceptionally anal with everything, Christian had soon realised. He had a small collection of things which occupied one of the many empty shelves in the shared bathroom. Being nosey, Christian had looked at the man's minimal collection; toothbrush, toothpaste, a straight razor and old school shaving lather and brush, bar of coarse looking soap and a generic brand of male deodorant. No shampoo, no shower gel, no moisturiser, no cologne, nothing remotely metrosexual. The man was beyond minimal; Christian was positive men in prison had better beauty regimes than Taylor's.

Christian's shelf, in contrast, consisted of luxurious hair products he bought frequently from Elena under her suggestion, including a scented mousse and clay for styling. There were three different scented colognes that Christian had systematically picked for separate particular occasions; work, pleasure and social. It was important to smell right for different moments. He couldn't go into a business meeting smelling like One Million when he should be smelling like Versace Eros. Everything had to be calculated when it came to the world of business. His was an electric razor was charging to the far side of his shelf, with attachments to alter how close a shave he needed for, again, different situations. But arguably the most important item on Christian's shelf was the sunblock moisturiser combination; melanoma and freckles just was not the look he wanted on the front page of Times magazine.

He grabbed his bottle of moisturiser and headed back out to the main room where Taylor was just hanging up the phone.

"…that doesn't sound like something a big girl would do. I'm very disappointed in you, Sophie. You're supposed to be my special little soldier. Do you think that talking smack to your mom and nana is what I want to hear you've been doing?" Taylor was saying, leaning on the breakfast bar as he shovelled a ketchup soaked sliver of bacon into his mouth, "You need to be respectful to your mommy and nana. I want to hear about good behaviour, okay? I love you, baby. Put mommy on. Lynn, hi, I spoke to her. I'm so sorry that- No, I know she's missing me- I, look, I don't want to argue with you, I'm on your side. When this job's done I want to take Sophie up North for a week camping. Daddy-daughter sorta thing. Yeah, I know. I miss her too. I had Sawyer transfer money into the account. Yup, I know, I know, yeah. Well the money's there, take whatever you need for that. Cool, catch you later."

Christian watched as Taylor hung up with a low groan, shaking his head and finishing the last of his breakfast before cleaning the plate.

"Everything okay with your daughter?" he asked, rubbing moisturiser into his cheeks.

"Yeah, she's fine," Taylor shrugged, "Terrible Threes."

"I thought it was Terrible Twos?" Christian frowned.

"It's Terrible Everything until they've graduated from college," Taylor said, his attempt at morning humour. Christian shook his head and went to check the mirror to be sure he'd rubbed in every last bit of the cream.

The drive to the office was uneventful. Seattle traffic was the same as always, irrespective of the route Taylor decided he would take them today. It gave Christian an opportunity to catch up on a few of the million emails he seemed to accumulate overnight. What Alex Harpingston in Accounts could possibly need Christian for at 0330 was unknown. It was as though his team didn't seem to think Christian, also, needed to at least attempt to sleep. Not that he'd slept much the night before. Christian found himself trapped in the usual nightmare; the sickening crippling fear, the hiding in the cupboard from Nasty Smelly Mick, the horrible uncomfortable feeling of a more than used diaper. He'd woken up and had to change the sheets once again but without Gail now, Christian used google to direct him on how to use his particular machine which, oddly enough, added a positive spin on his nightmarish sleep; he'd woken up in a terrified state but he'd learnt how to do his own laundry.

"Good morning, Mr Grey," Andrea greeted as both he and Taylor exited the elevator on their floor.

"Coffees please, Andrea," Christian said firmly, marching into his office to address some of the most ridiculous emails he'd received. Taylor made himself invisible, or as invisible as the big alpha male could become. He accepted his coffee from Andrea, choosing to ignore her ogling eyes like Christian always did, before settling down on the sofa to look over whatever the hell he looked over. Some days it was bonds and cheques that were apparently fraudulent, sometimes he was reading case files, once he'd pulled out a massive map of some mountain scape and spent the entire day circling zones on it.

Christian watched him for a moment, the black t-shirt he was wearing tight around his muscular arms. The man was incredibly strong and probably trained to withstand the cruellest of torture routines but Christian believed whole heartedly that he could break Taylor; he could have that arrogant smug half smirk ripped from his face with one single visit to the Playroom. Tie him up and bring him to the point where he was begging and crying his apologies for his cheeky dry comments.

It was a thought which caused Christian to get a hard on, crossing a leg over the other when Andrea appeared with coffees.

"Thank you, Andrea," Christian sighed, picking up his usual mug and taking a deep drink.

"You're welcome, Mr Grey. Are you remembering you have an appointment with Jerry Roach and Jack Hyde at SIP today, sir?" Andrea smiled, always friendly despite her inability to make a decent mug of coffee.

Christian tried to hide his grimace as he put his mug down, "I am but thank you, Andrea."

"Mr Grey," Andrea nodded, walking next over to Taylor who barely looked up. She laid his coffee in front of him, smiling, "Mr Taylor."

" _ **Taylor**_ ," Taylor snipped, shaking his head as he focused on the article he was reading and not once looking in Andrea's direction, "Thank you."

"You're welcome, Taylor. You look well today," Andrea added, a blush spreading across her cheeks, "Not that you don't usually look well. Just today you, well, that's a new t-shirt; it makes your arms look bigger."

"Mhhm," Taylor mumbled, flipping to the next page of whatever he was reading. Andrea retreated in defeat, smiling once more at Christian before closing the office door behind her. After a moment's silence, Taylor spoke, "Do I want to drink that coffee?"

"Not a chance. Somehow it tastes worse than yesterday," Christian laughed and then added, "I think she's got a crush on you."

Taylor finally looked up and in Christian's direction, "She's not my type."

"Blonde and beautiful? Semi intelligent," Christian pressed.

"Doesn't do it for me," Taylor replied bluntly, "If you think she's that beautiful why don't you ask her out? She ogles you just as much as she does me."

"Well for one thing, she's a gossip," Christian laughed, "I'd need to permanently need to gag her. Could you imagine? ' _Oh, Zara meet me in the photocopying room; I have to tell someone about how our boss strapped me in a spreader bar, shoved a vibrator up my ass, clamped my nipples and fucked me blind after twenty minutes of not letting me cum. Also have you picked up the figures from accounts?_ '," he said, putting on a higher pitched voice for effect.

Taylor coughed and instinctively went to grab his drink before remembering Andrea made it, "That's some image there, _Chrissy_."

"Keep calling me _Chrissy_ and that'll be you," Christian threatened playfully, meeting Taylor's odd coloured eyes with his own. The man's cheeks appeared to be a little flush Christian thought then he realised that Taylor was speechless. Internally, Christian felt himself doing some weird version of a victory dance; he finally appeared to have had the last comment between them.

"Anyway, I'm finished looking over what I need to here. Lets head to SIP," Christian finally said, breaking that weird connection. The truth was he had a few more emails left to sift through but all he could think about was taking Taylor back to the playroom this very second and working him over.

"Uh, yeah," Taylor coughed again, clearing his throat as he stared down at his lap, "Just give me a moment to finish reading this and I'll be good to go."

* * *

As Christian and Taylor were escorted into SIP's Commissioning Editor's office, Christian was taken aback by the man's sheer size; taller than Taylor but gangly and thin with sunken eyes and dirty blonde hair which was styled to sit to the side floppily. His attire wasn't what Christian had imagined, nor was it what Christian had hoped to see; Christian considered himself relatively New Age and Liberal but when it came to the business world he took a dim view of men who felt it was acceptable to wear sandals in the office. Perhaps it was a mixture of the sandals and the scruffy stubble that had Christian wanting to bet GEH that Mr Jack Hyde enjoyed a joint most nights.

"You must be Mr Grey," Jack said with a wide and welcoming smile which seemed to change his narrow face into something a lot more handsome and workable for what Christian had in mind for SIP's future. Christian took the large hand extended to him and shook, surprised by the firm grip this tie-less rogue possessed.

"Christian, please," Christian said and let go first, putting both hands firmly in his pockets, "Will Jerry be joining us?"

The intended meeting was with both Jack Hyde and Jerry Roach, the President of SIP. Christian had had previous meetings with Jerry, mostly on the golf course that the older man was a member of, where they discussed the possibility of GEH helping SIP expand their horizons further than where they were today. Christian had the finances to immediately inject into the company's development and Jerry seemed keen to come to a negotiated settlement. He'd joked that he'd take early retirement and sign over his shares of the company with immediate effect to Christian in seconds if the price was right.

Christian was keen to explore how true Jerry's words had been because the man was an absolute pervert; his comments on women who'd worked at the golf club made Christian feel incredibly uncomfortable. He was leach-like; a man nearing sixty who felt it was okay to comment about the length of a twenty year old waitress's skirt being too long. If Christian was to take over SIP, Jerry needed to be out.

Jack was merely here to answer questions about the current client group. Jerry had explained one Sunday that it was Jack's responsibility to manage relationships between some of the most high-profile authors and literacy producers in America and that his knowledge of their client group was exceptional. Christian wasn't interested in books, however. He wanted to see SIP progress forward as _THE_ powerhouse in unbiased media releases. What use was reading Lord Of The Rings or Mills and Boons when there were starving families across the US?

"And you are?" Jack asked, looking directly in Taylor's eyes, "We weren't aware you'd be bringing another person with you, Mr Grey."

"This is my personal assistant," Christian said, watching as Jack rose an eyebrow in confusion, taking in Taylor's massive build and straight back, legs spread, ' _I'd take you_ ' alpha male stance. Christian wanted to keep Taylor's bodyguard status on a need to know basis. He didn't want his family knowing because he didn't want to worry them but likewise he didn't want potential clients to think Christian needed security either.

"It's a veteran outreach scheme thing," Christian added, turning to address the bemused Taylor, "He makes good coffee and tea."

"I like mine fruity," Jack joked then with a weird cackle laugh.

"I bet you do," Taylor mumbled under his breath, looking around the man's book-cluttered office. Christian found himself doing the same which was when he spotted a large samurai sword on the wall to the far left. It apparently sparked Taylor's interests too as the large man walked over to it.

"Fan of old Samurai flicks?" Taylor asked in an even tone.

"Not exactly," Jack laughed again, lifting it from the wall and handing it to Taylor, "This was my graduation gift from an ex; I specialised in Japanese literacy."

Christian watched as Taylor studied and explored the weapon in his hands with an expression of something like jealousy; if they had a closer relationship Christian would consider buying the man his own samurai sword for whatever reason Taylor was imagining himself needing one for.

"Why Japanese?" Christian asked, noticing now that there were several little Japanese styled trinkets sitting around the office amidst the sea of paperwork. Perhaps the most striking of these being a devilish looking mask located beside the door. When Christian finally turned and spotted it he felt physically startled. The monstrous thing was red and had a pained expression with short stubby horns and rows of ghoulishly sharp teeth fitted in a twisted looking smile.

"I just think the Japanese culture is poetically brilliant. Their history is just so dramatic and enchanting and their philosophers were truly remarkable," Jack said with a shrug towards the mask, "That's a Hannya mask; they're used to symbolise a jealous female in theatre productions. And that," he added, pointing to a picture of two people embraced in some sort of abstract kiss, "is a picture of a Samurai and his trainee. Both men. Making love."

Christian caught Taylor's eye for a split moment and could tell that the big man was struggling to come to terms with all this oddness. Or perhaps this was actually normal? Perhaps it was normal to have a passion outside of work which would drive someone to decorate their environments in such a way? Maybe Christian needed to find a hobby and start collecting something?

Judging by Taylor's expression, scary Japanese masks and gay ancient art work was perhaps not a normalised hobby in today's society. Maybe Christian should stick to collecting fast German cars?

"Ah, Mr Grey," Jerry called, appearing at Jack's door and clapping his hands together excitedly before reaching up and squeezing Jack's shoulders, "I see you've met our star of the week?"

"Yes we have," Christian nodded firmly, "He was just showing us some of his collection. Jerry this is Taylor, my personal assistant."

"What happened to that sexy blonde, Alison?" Jerry frowned.

"You mean Andrea?" Christian replied, shaking his head before joking, "I've upgraded; Taylor actually knows how to make a decent cup of coffee."

"When you have legs like that, you don't need to make coffee," Jerry smirked in a way which made Christian feel incredibly uncomfortable, particularly when the older man in winked his direction then turned to Jack, "You'll need to meet her, Jacky boy. Blonde, ass, legs, massive jugs; she's got it all and she's in her twenties."

"She sounds like an angel," Jack laughed, looking at Taylor with a scrutinising eye, "and you brought this Jarhead with you instead?"

"Andrea was busy," Taylor growled lowly, clearly unimpressed with Jerry Roach. Andrea, for all her flaws, was loyal and learning slowly to do the job she so clearly lied on her CV to get. Listening to her being spoken about like a piece of meat made Christian's blood boil.

"Busy making the blood flow South, am I right?" Jerry smirked, laughing loudly as he looked at all three of the younger men in front of him, "Am I right?"

Jack gave his boss a sympathy chortle and nodded but neither Taylor nor Christian laughed.

Instead, Christian straightened up his back and gave Taylor a subtle nod. They would not be leaving today until SIP was Christian's and Jerry Roach was on his ass.

* * *

"Christian!"

Christian's head snapped up and he rolled his eyes, hearing the tell-tale 'clip clop' of Ros Bailey's shoes on the marble floor heading directly to his office with purpose. He smirked a little, knowing full well why she was marching his way.

"Elliot I'll need to call you back; Ros is after me," he said into his mobile, counting down the ETA.

"No worries, bro," Elliot replied, "I'll let mom know you're coming tomorrow night."

"I'm bringing a friend," Christian said reluctantly when he saw Taylor point to himself.

"A girl?" Elliot asked with a mocking playfulness, "Is my baby brother finally getting his dick wet on the regular? She fun or just as boring as you?"

"A work colleague, Elliot. A male work colleague," Christian huffed, disliking how loudly Elliot spoke on the phone as Taylor was hearing it all and lapping it up despite focusing on his laptop.

"…I knew you were a faggot," Elliot burst out laughing.

"Elliot! You've got to stop using that word; it's so derogative," Christian snapped, "I'm hanging up. Bye, asshole," he huffed, slamming his phone on the desk just as Ros blew open Christian's door with an icy blast of air.

"Christian," Ros snapped, storming into his office without invitation. Christian saw Taylor jump to his feet and intercept Ros, one hand outstretched and the other on the glock at his hip.

"Touch me, Jarhead, and I'll file a sexual harassment report," Ros said defiantly, her chin protruding out as she glared up at the boulder of a man preventing her from coming closer to Christian.

Christian could practically hear the smirk in Taylor's voice, "You'd be lucky," he scoffed.

"Bite me, _Mr_ Taylor." She hissed as he stood aside with a look of irritation across his face. With a clear path to Christian now, she focused her furious eyes directly towards him, "I'm sick of you making choices on things without consulting me. I thought I was your right hand man? You pay me to offer input on business matters; I'm your VP! What the fuck are you doing striking a deal with a publishing business?" Ros exclaimed and threw a confirmation email down on his desk as though she were a lawyer in a courthouse flashing incriminating evidence at him.

Not that it was news to Christian; he signed the papers he'd had his legal team draft up earlier in the week with what he'd offer SIP and Jerry.

"Considering this is my company, Miss Bailey," Christian started, sitting forward and placing his hands on his desk, "I didn't think I needed to consult you on where I am and who I am with."

"We know nothing about publishing, Christian," Ros pressed, the anger gone now that she'd had her little outburst and rebuttal with Taylor.

"Then what a great opportunity for us to learn," Christian said, flashing her a smile which he hoped would help to further defuse the thermonuclear setting she was currently on.

"What's the point in learning? What's to gain here?" Ros asked, squeezing the bridge of her nose, "You're giving me a migraine."

"SIP is a reputable media outlet," Christian started, "As it stands they're offering a voice to the people of the Pacific Northwest through their publishing works. I believe we can take their business model and with financial input and the correct marketing strategy we can help them expand to a global market eventually."

"And that helps GEH…..how?" Ros grunted, shaking her head.

"It helps GEH by helping the people with no voice," Christian pressed on, staring her down, "When I started this business I had a dream to feed the hungry and protect the poor. With a strong, unbiased media outlet, we can bring to light the struggles that real people are facing; the struggles which the politicians seem blindsided on."

"And buying some poxy Seattle based publishing group is going to help you achieve world domination?" Ros laughed and Christian tensed ever so slightly.

His eye caught Taylor's and he saw the right side of his bodyguard's lip twitch as he fought off that crooked smirk; Domination indeed.

"It's a start, Ros. Baby steps. You're right; I don't know much about the publishing world but I'm keen to learn and I'm keen to invest in good people," Christian shrugged, "This might go to shit or it might be the greatest thing we've invested in. Either way, it's done now. We now own SIP. I've played this one close to my chest but I've always CC'ed you into our conversations," Christian added by tapping the email Ros had thrown at him, "I just didn't consult you before buying it. And as you've probably read from today's email before you came marching in here; Jerry Roach has retired today starting immediately."

"Well at least I wont have to wear my short completely buttoned now if that pervert is gone," Ros sighed in defeat, "I mean it though, Christian. I'm here to advise you. If you keep pushing me and the rest of your team out of decisions it could be disastrous for you."

"I'll bear that thought in mind, Ros. Thank you for voicing your concerns," Christian said and then nodded towards the door, "If you don't mind, I need to have these numbers looked over before the end of the working day."

Ros huffed and turned on her heels, strutting away from Christian and right past Taylor without a second glance. The minute she was gone, however, Christian slumped back into his chair and covered his face. He let out a long and grumpy groan before shaking his head.

"Don't let her deter you from doing a good thing," Taylor suddenly said, the screen of his laptop down as he looked directly at Christian.

"What?"

"Ros. Don't let her negativity buck you off your path. People like her don't understand the world," Taylor shrugged.

Christian had to laugh, "How do you know anything about Ros?" he asked but then instantly regretted it as his lips twitched into that smug lopsided smirk, "You ran background checks on all my staff, didn't you?"

"Of course," Taylor nodded, "I needed to eliminate names on my list of potential stalkers," he said then added, "People like Ros think they're on the same level as everyone else, even though she grew up in a middle income household. She won't see herself as privileged because she'll see the millionaires and billionaires who lived more lavish lifestyles than her growing up and thinks she is therefore poor. She's never known what it means to be hungry. She's never been cold. I can bet that her doctor father never ran a slipper over her ass for stealing candy from the shop," he added," So when she sees you trying to help the poor, she won't understand what you're actually doing here. She'll see them as limp weight unwilling to try and fight for their place in the world, blindsiding herself to their lack of tools. Because she had those tools the minute she was born."

"Did you grow up in poverty?" Christian asked, taken back by Taylor's thoughtful ranting. It was the most he'd said to Christian in one sitting without their being a smug remark or a backhanded compliment.

He stopped for a moment and hesitated before giving a single nod," I'd say we were. I mean, we had a house. Whether dad earned enough to heat it was another story. The point is, Ros is one of these people who thinks the poor are lazy. And maybe there are lazy ones out there, I'm not disputing that, but I think there are a lot of hard working people in this city alone who need their stories told. I think what you're trying to do is incredible."

"Wow, Taylor," Christian said with a soft chuckle, "That's arguably the nicest thing you've said to me; I think you're growing soft on me, you big sissy."

"I'm no sissy," Taylor growled in annoyance, shaking his head as he packed away his laptop into his rucksack, "Hard as a rock over here, Chrissy."

"Good to know," Christian commented, watching as his bodyguard donned his leather jacket, unsure if he even noticed his innuendo, "Lets go home; we need to figure out what we're eating. It's officially twenty four hours since Gail left."

"I'll cook; you put a dishwasher tablet in the laundry machine," Taylor mumbled.


	13. Chapter 13

**WARNING; Rated M for future m/m and adult themes, this is not going to be a CG/Ana fic. It will be a CG/Taylor**

 **Chapter; 13.**

'Will see to it. LS.'

Sawyer text Jason, his mobile vibrating on the sofa beside the iron board. Jason grinned, glad that Ol' Jerry would be getting a little visit from someone bigger than him and stronger than him. His comments had surpassed 'locker room banter' for Jason; years in active service had seen Jason be privy to some disturbing conversations about women but outside the desert he did not appreciate hearing it. Particularly now that Jason had a little girl himself, and an Ex-wife whom he was still incredibly fond of.

At the time, he couldn't react like he'd wanted to. The wages from this job would see his daughter receive a solid education from the moment she started kindergarten till she graduated with her doctorate so Jason couldn't just hang Jerry out a window. He could, however, ask his work mate Luke Sawyer to do something and Luke was more than capable of giving Roach a taste of his own medicine.

Yesterday's meeting had been horribly boring. Jack Hyde was a complete hippy stoner and needed a hobby that wasn't 'Japan'. Jason was partial to Thai Chi and Krav Maga, he doubted Jack Hyde had done anything physical in his whole life. Jack's only input during the meeting had been to talk about authors and Grey had completely ignored him as he was probably just as bored of Jack as Jason.

Jerry Roach, however, had been incredibly huffy with the retirement package Christian had offered. Apparently receiving $1,000,000 was not what Roach wanted, going as far as calling Christian's offer 'blatantly cheeky' and 'an utter disgrace'. He'd quickly backpedalled on his comments when Christian had stood nonchalantly and told both Roach and Jack that he'd find another media team to invest in. The entire meeting Christian had been in control and both Roach and Jack needed reminding of that; Grey could find another media source but SIP would struggle to find another buyer who'd be willing to grant them this sort of opportunity. The bastard still got more money than Jason would want to see but Jason knew nothing about the business world; he knew only good and bad and Jerry Roach, to Jason, was a bad man. The smile on Grey's face as he got the signatures he needed and shook Jerry's hand goodbye for the last time seemed absolutely genuine.

"Why am I lying to your family again?" Jason called as he stood in the middle of Escala, just out of the shower. He'd not bothered getting dressed and was stood in his unbuckled jeans whilst ironing his dress trousers and shirt for this meal. He didn't understand why Grey felt the need to lie to his family, particularly when there was nothing to be ashamed of; hiring a bodyguard was a sensible thing in Jason's eyes. It showed that Christian was taking the threats against his life seriously. Surely that was a good thing?

"I don't want mom worrying," Christian insisted, calling from through in his bedroom, "She already worries enough about me. I don't want her thinking there is something wrong."

"But there is something wrong. You're being stalked and sent death threats," Jason said bluntly, watching as Christian came out of his bedroom in just his boxer shorts and an unbuttoned shirt hung over his shoulders. Jason took in the image subtly, diverting his eyes back down at his ironing board once he'd had his fill; Grey looked gorgeous partially dressed and in his CK's.

Grey shook his head, "My mom is a saint; I don't want to worry her right now with all this shit."

"Christian…" Jason objected, taking his freshly ironed shirt and draping it over the sofa. He caught Christian watching him out of the corner of his eye and Jason suddenly became self-conscious of his hairy, battle torn body in comparison to Christian's model good looks. Having just showered, Jason hadn't seen the point of completely dressing to redress once he'd ironed his clothes. At the time it had felt logical until Jason noticed Christian had absolutely spotted the fact he'd not bothered with underwear and his jeans were barely buttoned. It seemed to make the businessman smirk and look away, Jason buttoning up completely now.

"My mom just lost her father a few months ago," Christian stated firmly, making eye contact with Jason once more, "It was a shock death and she's only just starting to grieve. I don't want anything else on her plate."

Jason shrugged, going back to his dress trousers, "If that's what you want."

"We'll keep this PA angle going," Christian said firmly, "The veteran scheme."

"Got it," Jason nodded, finishing his ironing, "You need anything pressed?"

"No, I'm okay," Christian concluded, going back into his room. When he came out again he was wearing a pair of navy blue dress trousers and matching jacket with a paler blue shirt. Jason's chest stung with jealousy; he wished he had the ability to look as smart and professional as Christian could just by putting on a fucking suit. Even in his own dress shirt and trousers now Jason looked like a paid thug which had never bothered him until this very second and he'd no idea why.

Jason stared at himself in the full length mirror which Christian had hung on the wall by the stairwell. He ran his hand over his stubbly scalp and then checked for the umpteenth time that he'd shaved every last hair from his jaw; he really didn't want the embarrassment of realising he'd missed a spot at the dinner table.

"You look fine," Christian scoffed when he caught Jason pruning himself, "It's just dinner. We sit, mom and dad will talk, Mia will brag about whatever country she's visiting, Elliot will tell everyone who his latest sexual conquest is despite mom complaining and then we come home; simple."

Jason coughed and shook his head, straightening his stance, "Are you ready?"

"Yes," Christian huffed, "As ready as I ever am for these stupid dinners."

They entered the carpark side by side, Jason's eyes scanning the large lot before them. He was glad to see that Escala's security guards had taken Jason's suggestions seriously and were implementing the changes he wanted to see; security lighting, better and more CCTV cameras, barriers which prevented unauthorised cars from entering and leaving the lot. There should be parking lot attendants working the nightshift but Jason couldn't see them right now; he hoped that meant they were doing a patrol around the building.

"I'll apologise now for my sister," Christian commented as he stepped out of the elevator, "She is a bit of a handful."

"I follow her," Jason admitted, "Big part of this job is to keep an eye on what socialites are doing; she's made a name for herself on social media."

"I didn't take you as a Keeping Up With The Kardashians fan," Christian smirked. It made Jason laugh and he shook his head at the younger man's attempts at humour.

"Kourtney's my favourite."

Christian's jaw dropped as he looked up at Jason in shock. His surprised expression made Jason smile, a strange warmth spreading across the pit of his stomach as he looked at Christian. "You're not…wow, you're not even joking. You do watch the Kardashians."

"For professional reasons, obviously," Jason shrugged, "Never know when you'll get a call to provide Kim K security."

"Liar; the big bad Marine loves a bit of reality TV," Christian scoffed and then lapsed into a thoughtful silence. "I just hope my sister doesn't end up like that. I wish she'd focus her platform onto something more productive. Other than makeup and hair."

"Your sister taught me how to do my little girl's hair for a family do," Jason commented, remembering how he'd had to look up ' _Simple Up Do's For Single Dads_ ' and had found Mia Grey's Youtube tutorial channel at the top of the suggestions listings. He'd sat Sophie down on his knee and did his best attempt of a French pleat before then trying to attach some stupid flower to match his cousin Tuck's wedding theme.

"Seriously?" Christian laughed, "Don't let Mia know that or she'll demand pictures."

"I don't have photos of my daughter," Jason shrugged before grabbing Christian's wrist as two men and a woman appeared from behind a neighbour's large black 4x4. One man took the lead of the small group, a toothless bastard with terribly painful looking sores and eyes that were red and watery no doubt from lack of sleep.

"Give us your wallets," Toothless demanded with a nervous twitch, pointing at Christian Grey's wrist with a finger which was stained a burnt yellow colour, "A-a-and that watch there on your wrist."

Jason heard the distinct 'swoosh' of a switchblade being opened and noticed the bald man behind Toothless was pointing a knife in Christian's direction, his extended arm shaking badly. These guys were tweeked for sure. If Jason were to put money on it, he'd say meth given how much their faces were just rotting, but in this day and age you could never be too sure what someone had taken.

"Guys," Jason said firmly but calmly, standing in front of Christian. He lifted his blazer jacket to show Toothless and Baldy that he was packing a piece as a warning, "You should turn around now and try another lot. You're not getting anything from us. Turn around before you get hurt."

"Did I say speak I said give me your shit so give me your fucking shit!" Toothless screamed all in one sentence, not taking a breath as he, too, pulled a machete like weapon from the back of his trousers and started waving it around like a Fourth of July flag. The woman was yet to say anything and instead was choosing to lurk behind Toothless and Baldy, watching nervously as she rubbed her bear arms raw. Even though she was female, even though she was a bag of bones, even though he had a daughter…Jason had to treat her like he would Toothless and Baldy. He didn't know if she also had a weapon and with Christian right behind him, he could not take the risk.

Fuck sake. How the fuck did three meth heads slip passed the fucking parking lot attendant? Jason would have them fired for absolute negligence. Grey paid a fortune in service charges to maintain this building and that included the parking lot and the prevention of unauthorised visitors entering the vicinity.

"Come on come on come on!" Toothless pressed, both he and Baldy still brandishing their weapons like some sort of big league gangsters when, in reality, they were just three desperate junk heads looking for money for gear, "I won't warn you agai-"

"Call 911," Jason said to Christian, growing bored of this rhetoric as pulled his gun out from it's holster. He didn't hesitate to aim it directly at Toothless, "Back the fuck off! Back off! Back off!" he roared, his voice echoing throughout the lot. Toothless recoiled at the noise and crouched in defence, having obviously thought Jason and Christian wouldn't be stupid enough to disobey them. Jason took the opportunity to upper cut Toothless in his gummy mouth with a velocity and power which saw him fly up in the air and land a foot back, blood spurting out everywhere. The machete he had been holding went flying and nearly hit the woman behind them which wouldn't have been the worst thing, Jason realised.

A mere second later, Jason heard Baldy gasp loudly in pain and spun on his loafer heels with his gun outstretched. His blood boiled when he realised Christian had disobeyed him and had chosen instead to jump into the fight instead of calling the authorities like he'd been told to.

Christian was landing a succession of aggressive sidekicks on Baldy's jaw and neck, his hands protecting his face defensively as he attacked with ease and skill. When Baldy remembered he was holding a switchblade and went to wave it, Christian slammed his leg down on the man's arm and caused an almighty crack that turned Jason's stomach.

"My arm!" Baldy yelped, holding his cleanly snapped, flopping ligament. Jason swiped his leg from under him, causing Baldy to drop to the floor and continue gasping in pain, "Jacko, my arm!"

"He-hello, Mr Grey?"

Christian and Jason looked up and glared as the building security finally made an appearance. His eyes bulged when he spotted the two fallen meth-heads and their dislodged weapons, the woman stood in utter astonishment as though she didn't expect Jason and Christian to fight back. Jason continued to point his gun at her; he didn't trust that she wasn't armed, nor did he want her running away.

"Mr Grey, did you dial 911?" the Security guard called as he clutched one of the building's wireless telephones.

"Yes, Stanley. Yes I fucking did," Christian shouted, studying his scuffed and bloodied oxfords, "Where the hell were you?"

"I-I was fixing a camera," Stanley stammered like a bundling buffoon.

"We were nearly mugged, Stanley. What the hell am I paying you for?" Christian stated, waving his hand towards the CCTV cameras, "I'm late for dinner with my parents-"

"You can't go," Jason frowned, shocked that Christian still intended to go to dinner despite nearly losing his valuables to three desperate crack heads. "What about the police?"

"They have it all on CCTV," Christian grumbled, "I'm not about to let this fuck up my mother's night. If the police want a statement they can call me." He concluded and walked towards the Audi as though nothing had happened.

Jason exchanged a look with Stanley then studied the two disarmed men on the floor. Neither Toothless or Baldy would be moving any time soon; Baldy was sobbing in pain and Toothless was yet to rouse from Jason's uppercut to the face.

"Keep an eye on that woman," Jason instructed as he went to pick up the weapons with a tissue he'd tucked into his jacket pocket, "Do not touch these barehanded. You have my number. In future, anyone trying to get into this building, I want seen and recorded. Anyone looking for Grey, I want personally called."

"Yes Sir," Stanley croaked, pulling his gun and holding it with zero confidence. Jason almost didn't want to leave him here to handle the situation but Grey had called the cops, there was nothing else that Jason could legally do.

"Fucking faggots," Baldy choked, Jason looking towards him and cocking an eyebrow, "Fucking fags. I'll have you arrested for breaking my arm and see how your kind last in the jail!"

Jason walked back over to Baldy and looked down at him, still clutching an arm which was completely buckled the wrong direction, "What did you call me?"

"A Faggo-ARGH!"

Jason slapped Baldy's, "That's not a very nice word. Call me that one more time," he threatened, crouching down beside him and pointing his gun directly over Baldy's broken arm, "I dare you."

Baldy said nothing but continued to cry in pain. Jason stood and walked to where Christian Grey was stood watching on. Considering the pressures Jason had witnessed Grey struggle with, he couldn't believe how calmly he'd disarmed Baldy, completely in control of that powerful body of his. Jason was angry; his job was to keep Grey safe and he'd been in absolute danger just now. Although he was fairly certain, Jason didn't know for sure if these creeps weren't related to the death threats Christian was receiving. For that reason, he sent a message to the inspector handling the case to let him know about the situation.

Even though he wasn't in the mood for meeting Christian's parents now, getting Christian away from this lot until the police and investigators did their thing was crucial for the man's safety.

"Don't let my parents know this happened, okay?" Christian asked as Jason pulled them out of park and towards the exit.

"Of course, sir," Jason said, meeting Christian's beautiful grey eyes in the rearview mirror.


	14. Chapter 14

**WARNING; Rated M for future m/m and adult themes, this is not going to be a CG/Ana fic. It will be a CG/Taylor**

 **Chapter; 14.**

"Nice house."

Christian looked up from his iPad and stared at Taylor's murky coloured eyes in the rear view window. It was the first thing the man had said since they left Escala, leaving behind the three meth heads who thought they'd be able to rob Christian and Taylor to fund their habit. Staring out the window, Christian realised that they'd arrived at his parent's home, the security gates opening to let them in.

"They have security," Christian explained, watching Taylor checking out the angles of the gate's CCTV cameras, "Dad's a lawyer, though I suppose you already knew that? He takes on some pretty intense cases. Humanitarian cases."

"He worked on a recent Nazi case, didn't he?" Taylor said knowingly, which wasn't a surprise to Christian. He knew his bodyguard had done extensive research about his parents.

"Werner Muller; he was an enforcer at a concentration camp. He maybe wasn't a big player but he was part of it and Dad was desperate to be on the team getting him a sentence," Christian said, leaning forward to the window so that he could speak through the intercom, "Michael, it's Christian and guest."

"Very good, Master Grey," Good ol' Michael said, the gates opening with a rickety creak. Taylor continued to drive forward, Christian catching the man's smug and obnoxiously irritating lopsided smirk.

"What are you smiling at?" Christian questioned.

"He calls you Master Grey," Taylor chortled lowly, "I just think it's coincidental considering your fetishisms."

"I don't have a fetish," Christian stated bluntly, shaking his head at Taylor who was still chuckling and smirking as he pulled up into a parking space beside Mia's pink m ini, "It's a lifestyle."

"No judgement here, _Master_ Grey," Taylor joked, those muddy blue eyes staring directly at Christian as he turned in his seat. He was itching for a beating, Christian thought; desperate to smack that arrogant glint out of his eye. For a Marine, he was cheeky and challenging; a free thinker. Christian had imagined that hiring a marine for a bodyguard would have been more like having…well, someone with the ability to take orders. Taylor came across as a dog who needed castrated; he was definitely an alpha male but he was trying to challenge Christian's dominance and that was grating to Christian.

"You can just call me 'Master', Mr Taylor," Christian chimed back as he stepped out of the car and began walking on the white gravel path to his parent's front door.

Michael was waiting for both he and Taylor, smiling politely. He was nowhere near as impressive as Taylor looked, but he understood the family and had been working with Carrick for years. A retired FBI agent, Michael knew his stuff and had kept Carrick and Grace safe for years, even during more intense legal cases. With a weathered face and a floppy crop of thinning grey hair, he felt more like an uncle than a trained bodyguard.

"Master Grey," Michael greeted warmly before looking up at Taylor with curiosity, "And this must be your guest?"

"Taylor," Taylor said, offering his hand to shake Michael's.

"Have you got ID?" Michael asked, "I'm sure you appreciate that I need copies of identification before letting guests into the premises."

"I understand," Taylor replied, opening his wallet and handing over some form of ID. Christian looked on, trying to see if he could learn anything knew about Taylor. Michael took it before Christian could catch a quick glance and scanned the picture critically before taking a photo on his mobile phone. Satisfied, it was handed back to Taylor who tucked it away quickly in his back pocket.

"Sorry we're late," Christian said to Michael as they were led through his childhood home, "There was an issue with GEH."

"Not a problem, Master Grey," Michael responded and walked ahead, Christian holding back and watching Taylor taking in every fine detail of the grand entrance. The house was perhaps not as sleek or as modern like Escala. It was a lot more cluttered and busy but everything was family orientated. From the warm colours of the woodwork to the burnt orange walls which supported family portraits of grandparents and great grandparents; family was at the heart of everything Carrick and Grace did.

Christian caught Taylor studying a few framed photos of the foster children who Grace and Carrick had cared for before they'd made the decision to adopt Elliot and begin their permanent little family.

"That's Tommy," Christian explained when he walked back to Taylor's side and nodded at the picture of Carrick and seventeen year old Tommy driving the family car.

"Tommy?" Taylor frowned, looking at him with a risen eyebrow.

"They fostered him," Christian explained, "Actually, I think he was the last kid they fostered before Elliot. His parents were drug users but his dad managed to get himself on a Subutex script and keep clean long enough to get Tommy back. He's a Drug Worker in Detroit now, three kids and a wife. Lovely guy but apparently he was an absolute cunt the first few years he lived with Carrick and mom."

"How many kids have your parents cared for?" Taylor asked, looking down at another photo of Grace and Angelica, another foster child who'd kept in touch with the Greys, "Who was the youngest?"

"I'm not sure," Christian shrugged, "They never really tell us. Sometimes they'd just have children for a weekend as emergency housing, sometimes they had kids like Tommy from the ages of nine till adulthood. Mom would always say they never fostered enough. Elliot was the youngest they ever received; his mom was in a car crash with him and no other guardian stepped forward. He was in the back of the car, completely fine, but she was mangled. Critical in hospital for a few weeks but died of infection. By that point mom and Carrick had bonded with Elliot."

"Geez," Taylor whistled through his teeth, looking at Christian curiously, "Why do you rarely call Carrick your 'dad'?"

Taylor's question caught Christian off guard completely and he felt his walls going up. Who did Taylor think he was asking such an incredibly personal question? Christian felt his temper about to erupt and had to bite his tongue hard to prevent him from giving Taylor a verbal dressing down for asking such an insensitively probing question.

But when he looked into Taylor's eyes, he saw nothing but kindness. His question wasn't for his own knowledge, for some stupid security reason that he wouldn't ever reveal to Christian. Instead he was looking at Christian with warmth and concern, like he was genuinely interested in something important about Christian's life. In this light, those muddy eyes looked charmingly green, his lips a thin line as he awaited the response.

"Because I don't know if my dad's dead or not," Christian admitted after a hesitating breath, fighting the violent need shove Taylor and run, "I suppose it's a childish thing. I just worry my dad would walk through that door," he pointed to the grand entrance, "to see me and overhear me calling Carrick 'dad'. Even now, I still wonder if one day my dad will come looking for me."

"You've no idea where your father is?" Taylor asked, "At all?"

"Nope, nothing. That information died with my whore mother," Christian insisted, staring at the picture of Tommy and Carrick again wistfully as he admitted to Taylor thoughts he was shy to even discuss with Flynn, "My real mother was a prostitute so my father could be anyone really. If he was a punter, he could even have a family and maybe he has his own business too. I like to think my dad's out there, with a wife and kids. My biological brothers and sisters."

Taylor said nothing but Christian could feel his eyes studying his face. It felt so strange to be this open with someone, particularly a recent stranger, but Christian couldn't help himself. Something about Taylor got under his skin, made his stomach churn with a warm nervousness that he'd never experienced before.

He didn't even flinch when Taylor gave his shoulder a manful squeeze, comforting Christian with the soft caress of his thumb through the material of his dinner jacket. Christian looked up at him then, feeling a sudden pulse of electricity between them. There was nothing but understanding in those muddy eyes which was perhaps what attracted Christian so much to this man. He knew hardship, he knew pain and hunger; he could understand Christian's emotions or lack of.

Christian studied his concerned eyes and then lowered his gaze to Taylor's lips which were shaped in a soft, full smile, not the annoying arrogant half smirk he usually gave Christian.

"Christian!" mom called, her voice echoing through the hall. He heard the sound of her heels clip-clopping towards them and felt the moment between both Taylor and himself evaporate as though it were never there.

Taylor's hand dropped to his side and he assumed an all-male stance, murky eyes narrowing as he looked towards the source of the voice.

"Mom," Christian smiled as Grace rounded the corner, "Sorry, we're just coming," he explained, taking in the sight of his beautiful mother, dressed in a teal skirt and blouse combo. She noticeably startled when her eyes landed on the massive Taylor, confused.

"This is my guest, mom. Taylor?" Christian explained, nodding up at Taylor, "My PA?"

"Forgive me, Mr Taylor, but you're not what I envisioned when Christian said he was bringing a work friend with him to Dinner," Grace explained, a smile spreading across her face.

"Taylor, please," Taylor said politely, bowing his head, "I'm Mr Grey's PA."

"You're his personal assistant?" Grace questioned then laughed weakly.

"It's a veteran scheme, mom," Christian mumbled, "Come on; I'm starving."


	15. Chapter 15

**WARNING; Rated M for future m/m and adult themes, this is not going to be a CG/Ana fic. It will be a CG/Taylor**

 **Chapter; 15.**

Jason felt out of place sat around the Grey's table, eating something ridiculous with even more stupid dainty cutlery. Dinner with his family had been a messy experience which consisted of arguing the values of mushy pea and carrot baby food to a screaming toddler before he and his ex could enjoy a cold plate of macaroni on the sofa once Sophie was put down to bed.

Elliot Grey kept looking at him which was putting Jason off his dauphinoise potatoes. He tried to keep himself from glaring back but every so often he met Elliot with a challenging sneer.

"and then she crashed her car!" Mia Grey explained with a girlish laugh. The table shared her giggle.

"That Courtney is some woman," Grace encouraged, smiling at her beautiful daughter, "As long as you keep yourself out of trouble, Missus."

"Of course, Mom," Mia smirked, her all American white smile catching Jason's eye, "What about you, Taylor? Tell us how it feels working for Mister Grumpy."

"Mia," Christian warned but he was overruled by Elliot who stared directly into Jason's eyes.

"Go on, Taylor; is he as much a square in work is he is in his personal life?" Elliot teased, Christian rolling his eyes and scooping up another forkful of potato into his mouth.

"Mr Grey is very fair," Jason said, picking up his glass of OJ, "Provided you work hard, you're rewarded well."

"So you were in the military before becoming a PA, Taylor?" Carrick asked, the head of the Grey family leaning forward on his arms and assessing Jason critically. Typical Lawyer whack job, Jason thought as he stared Carrick down. He had very little time for Lawyers and the sorts. To Jason, more good could be accomplished by physically going out into the world with a long range sniper and eliminating bad people, rather than taking them to court and allowing them to live out their lives in cushy house arrest.

"Marine Corps," Jason said without breaking contact with the oldest Grey, "Four active combat duties."

"Four?" Mia gasped theatrically. It was a familiar sound; women seemed to dig the military thing. When Jason was in need of relief he would hit up dive bars and let slip to desperate women that he had severed four tours and obtained a collection of impressive brass for his efforts. Usually did the trick for a quick fuck in the bar bathroom.

"Yes ma'am," Jason replied, not looking away from Carrick yet. He felt oddly threatened by Carrick, as though the man didn't trust Jason. But neither should he; Jason was lying about his occupation and relationship to Christian after all.

He went to ask Carrick about his own line of work to divert the audience from Jason's own history when Mia opened her mouth and asked Jason a question which nearly had him choke on his potatoes; "So how many people have you killed?"

"Mia." Grace snapped, Carrick breaking contact with Jason and turning to glare at his daughter also. Elliot, however, laughed and shook his head at Mia as he ate another bite of dinner noisily. "Never, ever, ask someone who's served that question." Grace turned to Jason then and smiled sympathetically, "I'm so sorry, Taylor. Mia can get carried away."

"'s all right," Jason lied, looking down at his dinner. He no longer had the appetite for stupidly fancy potato mash and flavoursome beef. He was never ashamed of what he'd done in his career, both military and as a paid mercenary, but the old People Death Count Tally made him queasy when he allowed himself to look back and think about the lives he'd taken. Because when he did have to kill people, they were never 'people' to him; they were pawns. Pawns in a bigger game of chess which justified why he had to do what he had to do. With Sophie in his life now, too, he didn't like to allow himself to dwell on his past actions.

He was about to excuse himself from dinner to go to the bathroom when he suddenly felt a hand grasp his knee tightly.

Christian looked up at him with an expression which asked him silently 'Are you okay?'

Jason focused on those beautiful grey eyes a little longer than he should in front of Christian's family before giving him a subtle nod and picking up his fork again and forcing a spoonful of beef and potato down his throat. Grey didn't move his hand straight away either, subtly stroking his knee cap with his thumb much like how Jason had done when Christian appeared to lose himself thinking of his unknown father.

When he did move his hand, it was only because Elliot had noticed. Christian's brother looked at both Jason and then Christian sceptically but appeared to know better than to ask questions at the dinner table. Not that there was anything to hide, Jason reassured himself.

He was Christian Grey's bodyguard and nothing else… or so he was trying to convince himself. Every day, Jason could feel and oddly electric pulse between himself and Christian. It was a feeling which he felt in the bit of his stomach, his heart and also his dick; he'd never experienced it before and it was terrifying him because he knew Grey was experiencing it too. He had to be; it was palpable. And it took all of Jason's self-control not to act upon it.

Bodyguard and Client; as cliché as it was, the golden rule with maintaining a professional relationship was to not sleep with the client. Yet even now Jason couldn't help but think back to that wild and hot dream he'd had where Christian had kept bringing him to the point of orgasm before preventing him from shooting his load.

Dinner continued for the Greys though after Mia's verbal bluff no one asked Jason about his life which suited him to a T. He watched as Christian enjoyed a few more gins with his brother and father, allowing his guard to drop ever so slightly as he chuckled at some in joke between the men. Grace and Mia spoke amongst themselves as their maid cleared up the dessert bowls, Jason watching silently.

His mobile buzzed and he excused himself to the next room, glad to hear the familiar sound of Inspector Graham on the other side.

"You hitting me with some good news, inspector?" Jason asked, rubbing his jaw.

"Those three meth heads have nothing to do with Grey's letter writing weirdo; they've been going around a few parking blocks in your area stealing from the rich. There's been four reports to the police; people were handing over rolex watches to them. Can you believe that?" Graham whistled, "I thought I'd just call to let you know there's no connection at all."

"I wont act like I'm not disappointed," Jason admitted; had those three wasters been involved, Jason reckoned he could leave before he let slip his attraction to Grey. A man. Geeez.

"Sorry, Taylor," Graham sighed, "How's Grey doing?"

"Better," Jason said, hearing him laughing through the house with his brother, "We're at his parents just now. Nice people; they have a bodyguard here. Decent security too."

"Yeah; Grey Mansion is a little fortress in Bellevue. Carrick Grey's made a lot of enemies in his career so it's understandable they have security in place. Just last year there was an attempt on his life after he put away a member of an Anti-immigrant Neo-Nazi party," Graham explained, Jason hearing him take a sip of something, "I'd better go, Taylor. I've got the kids tonight. I'll let you know if there's a change in the current situation but I don't think there will be."

"Thanks, Graham," Jason said, hanging up and heading back through to the dinning area where he spotted Grey finishing another drink with his brother. He looked up at Jason and grinned brightly, drunk. Jason had to smile back, "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," he said with the slightest slur to his words. He looked at the watch on his wrist and added, "We'd better head off, Taylor. It's late and if I stay much longer, Elliot will have me under the table."

"I told you; gin's a lethal drink," Elliot laughed, "Tastes like juice. You need to try something a little more bitter, man. Like a beer."

"And why would I want to end up with a beer-belly like you, Elliot?" Christian teased, ducking when his brother threw an apple from the fruit bowl at him.

They said their goodnights, Mia's hand lingering a little longer in Jason's than he'd have hoped. Carrick watched them go stood beside Michael and whispering as Jason put the audi in reverse. Carrick wasn't a stupid man and Jason imagined that he knew full well that Christian had hired Jason for security rather than as a PA. Michael nodded towards Carrick as they both spoke, probably agreeing that there was more going on than Christian had wanted to let his folks know. But then Jason didn't care what the Greys thought. He cared only for Christian and for Christian's security.

"Sorry for Mia's comment," Christian said once they hit the motorway, "She doesn't think before she speaks."

"I gathered that," Jason replied, focusing on the road ahead, "It's fine. I don't take it personally."

"It's not fine," Christian grumbled, "She's been warned time and time again not to ask people such pointed, personal questions. She once asked mom's friend, a social worker, how many kids she'd but in care. Not maliciously, just her own curiosity."

"She's just young," Jason concluded, not wanting to dwell on the comment anymore than he had done, "Did you enjoy dinner?"

"It was good; I've been so busy moving into Escala and of course hiring you, that I've not seen my brother in forever," Christian admitted, staring out the window, "I'm going to try and hang out with him a little more in the next few weeks. Even if he comes to GEH for lunch. I miss him; even if he is the biggest asshole I know."

"Everyone thinks their sibling is the biggest asshole they know," Jason laughed at that, "I could see how much he loves you."

"I love him too but that doesn't make him any less of an asshole," Christian chuckled too, looking up at Jason driving then, "Do you have siblings?"

Jason physically winced at the question, focusing ahead so that Christian couldn't read his face and see how pained he was, "Had."

"Oh, sorry," Christian replied.

"No reason to be sorry," Jason shrugged, "Sometimes bad people do bad things and good people suffer." Christian looked up curiously at that but unlike his sister he knew not to push Jason into talking about it. He didn't say another word until they reached Escala. He was so silent that Jason would have thought he was sleeping if it weren't for the fact that the city lights reflected in his eyes.

"I don't think I'll bother jogging tomorrow, Taylor," Christian instructed, walking towards the elevator.

"Fair enough," Jason responded, locking the car and scanning the lot for yet more opportunistic meth heads. He couldn't wait to remove his jacket; all dinner he'd had to wear it to hide the blood splats on his crisp shirt. Christian's shoes were also bloodied and scuffed though thankfully no one appeared to have noticed at the table.

"I'm going to go into work for ten too," Christian said as they both stood in the small elevator, Jason able to smell Christian's infatuating cologne, "I don't have any meetings until noon. We'll get a bit of a lie in."

"Good to know, Sir," Jason added, watching the floor countdown to busy his mind; it was too easy for Jason to think of all the perverted things they could do in this cramped little room.

"What did you call me, Taylor?" Christian asked, turning round to look at Jason with an eyebrow curiously lifted.

Jason frowned, staring into Grey's eyes as his face flushed with colour, "What? Sir?"

"Yes," Christian smirked at him, a wicked glint in his eye, "Sir."

Jason went to ask the significance of his word choice but felt Christian grab the lapels of his dinner jacket and throw him against the wall of the elevator. Jason growled and was about to shove him back when Christian's lips crashed against his own, their bodies slamming together.

Shock wearing off with a lick of Christian's tongue against his own, Jason aggressively gripped a handful of Christian's beautiful copper hair, his other going to touch Christian's body. Before he could touch him however Christian grabbed his wrist and brought it up to his face also. Not that Jason was complaining, particularly when Christian's hips gyrated against Jason's own. He groaned lowly, feeling Christian's erection against his thigh, his own painfully pressing against his zipper.

He could taste the gin on Christian's lips, the man kissing Jason with a possessiveness that no one had ever shown him. Not girlfriends, not even his ex wife. It was a kiss which expressed ownership and Jason was shocked by how much that turned him own.

The elevator binged and the doors slid open to Escala, Christian stepping away with another aggressive shove and leaving Jason hot and bothered, confused and scared but ultimately desperate for more.


	16. Chapter 16

**WARNING; Rated M for future m/m and adult themes, this is not going to be a CG/Ana fic. It will be a CG/Taylor**

 **Chapter; 16.**

"What...what was that?" Taylor frowned as he shook off his bewilderment and followed Christian into Escala, the elevator closing behind him and enclosing both men into the penthouse.

Christian wasn't prepared to answer Taylor just yet. Instead, he grabbed himself a bottle of water from the fridge and sat down on the leather sofa. He slowly unbuttoned his shirt and then loosened his tie without as much as a glance at Taylor's dress shoes. He wanted to make his bodyguard squirm for his own devilish enjoyment.

"Christian?" Taylor tried again for his attention and then stood directly before him. Christian continued to ignore him and instead focused on his cold bottle of water so that the man in front of him could not see Christian's grin. He was enjoying this; it had been so long since he'd been in control of someone. Too long, really.

"Sir?" Taylor said with an obvious protest in his tone.

Bingo, Christian thought and finally looked up at him, unable to keep the smug expression from showing on his face. Taylor was stood with his lips apart and a flush of red colour across his usually pale cheeks. His shirt was crinkled and twisted from where Christian had clenched it in a tight fist, his dinner jacket still hanging partially down his shoulders. Christian hadn't realised he'd pushed it off him; he'd allowed himself to enjoy the spontaneity of the moment.

Taylor was trying to hide his erection with the tails of his shirt, a hand in his trouser pocket too but Christian could see clear as day that the bodyguard was aroused and flustered. His expression was one of mixed emotions and feelings and Christian liked to think that not all of those feelings were negative. He had kissed back, after all. And what a kiss back it had been.

There had been a challenge in Taylor's technique, the likes of which no sub had offered him. Taylor had fought against Christian for dominance and had actually bit down on Christian's lip the minute his hands had grabbed handfuls of his hair. The pain had been a sharp shock but it had only fuelled the raging need Christian had experienced. Watching Taylor now, swollen lipped and red faced, Christian wanted to continue their battle in the playroom.

"Yes?" Christian responded after a lengthy silence in which he took in the image of this needy male in front of him. It shocked Christian how turned on it made him. He'd previously experimented with men under Elena's recommendations to become a successful and well-rounded dominant. But never had Christian wanted a man as much as he did Taylor. He couldn't stop imagining all the different ways he could remove the man's usual lopsided arrogant smirk. Maybe with a whip or crop? Or masked and suspended against the wall? Perhaps gagged with a ball or even Christian's own dick...

That was an image which made Christian's hard on twitch; Taylor's smirking lips wrapped around him as Christian pumped his hips back and forward into his mouth.

"What was that?" Taylor pointed backed to the elevator and he continue to try and regain his usual stoic composure.

"It was a kiss, Taylor," Christian smirked, feeling rather pleased with himself that he'd managed to fluster a man who prided himself on having the emotional density of a rock.

"I'm straight," Taylor replied with a deadpan tone, shaking his head at Christian, "I have, had, a wife. I'm not into men."

"You were the one who kissed me back," Christian observed with a frown. He then held his hands up when Taylor went to object and silenced him, "Look, I'm not judging you here. It was a kiss. A damn good kiss at that."

Taylor waved an arm in frustration at Christian and walked back towards the kitchen, hand grabbing the back of his neck, "It will not be happening again. I lost control; I should have stopped you and I'm sorry that I didn't."

Christian frowned, "What do you mean 'you lost control and should have stopped me'?" he asked and stood up again, "I was in complete control of that situation. It wasn't some chaotic decision on my behalf. I kissed you; you were the one who lost control and kissed me back. I was in complete control."

"If you were in control you'd have never kissed me, period," Taylor rebottled, and gave Christian the smuggest looking lopsided smile imaginable. It boiled his blood; did Taylor truly believe that Christian had been the one out of control there? He was the king of control. "Look, I get that you're in a vulnerable place, Mr Grey, and you're maybe seeing me as something safe. But I do not fraternise with my clients."

"Well you clearly do, Kevin Costner."

"Nice, Chrissy," Taylor said and rolled his eyes, "Like I've never heard that before."

Christian felt his nerves snap at the sight of his eye-roll, his blood running like lava through his veins, "Don't worry about control, Taylor. I know what I'm doing."

"Then don't kiss me," Taylor snapped.

"Fine," Christian roared, "That's fine with me. I lied too, by the way. You're a shit kisser anyway."

"Well maybe that'll stop you losing control and kissing me again in future," Taylor shrugged calmly, which made Christian want to physically hit him.

"I wasn't out of control; I AM control personified!" Christian yelled, grabbing the first thing he could –a balled up pair of socks left over from Christian's first successful load of laundry- and launching them at Taylor's head.

Taylor ducked, shook his head, and then turned his back on Christian, "Sure, real in control. Look, I'm going to bed."

"Oh, oh just walk away!" Christian whistled after him. "In fact; I command you to go to bed. That's how in control I am right now. You're doing exactly what I want."

He'd no idea how Taylor managed to get so under his skin. The man was right to a certain degree; something about Taylor challenged Christian's stability and control. He was like an earthquake, rocking the equilibrium Christian had worked so hard to find in his life. But it didn't feel like a bad thing. Instead, Christian rather relished it which confused him; he liked when his submissives bowed down to his every word but he liked butting against Taylor's will power. The challenge was new and exciting.

Taylor paused on his walk to his room and turned around, looking at Christian with a cocked eyebrow and a half sided smirk, "What are we even arguing about?"

Christian paused and studied him in complete silence for a moment before he found himself laughing weakly, "I…I don't know, Taylor."

Taylor snorted his amusement and walked back towards Christian, going behind the breakfast bar and opening the fridge. They'd been without Gail for less than a few weeks and already starvation and chaos had set in; there was nothing in the fridge but seasonings and questionable cheese. They needed to do a food shop; oh the domestic bliss of a man and his bodyguard.

"I'll order in takeaway," Taylor decided. He then looked at Christian, "Not that your parents meal wasn't good enough; it just was lacking in heft. I need a lot more calories than what they provided or I'll start fading away."

Christian chuckled, struggling to imagine Taylor being anything but his massive, powerful self. "Get me a pepperoni pizza too then," he decided, sitting at the breakfast bar and watching Taylor dialling up the only takeaway he trusted, "I'm sorry if I offended you by kissing you like that."

"You never," Taylor said with a sigh, averting his eyes to the marble top counter, "You're right; I kissed you back. Be that badly."

"You didn't kiss badly," Christian admitted then as Taylor put in the order. When he hung up and looked back at him, Christian continued, "You really didn't. I just said that to get a rise out of you just there. You kissed like you do everything; with a dumper truck filled with testosterone. It was good. Great even. You bit my lip."

"Yeah?" Taylor laughed, his cheeks and ears going red as he pocketed his mobile. He was incredibly bashful and it looked oddly adorable to Christian, watching as he rubbed the back of his neck anxiously, "I'm sorry if I hurt you. Sometimes I just…lose control," he added with that lopsided smirk which usually aggravated Christian. In this moment, however, Christian adored it.

"You definitely didn't hurt me. Far from it; I can't remember the last time someone bit me," Christian admitted, "Wouldn't have put you as a biter."

"I'm a man of mystery," Taylor joked, taking off his jacket and lying it over the back of the arm chair then kicking off his shoes. He picked up his book, his subtle way of letting Christian know that he was ending the conversation.

Christian took the hint and went to the bathroom to freshen himself up, fixing his hair which Taylor had ruffled and tugged wildly out of place. He looked like he'd been caught in a tornado and Christian loved it. In fact, it actually hurt how much he wanted Taylor to do it again.

Christian sighed wistfully as he wet his hands and tried to smoothen down his copper waves. He was desperate to kiss Taylor again but the man had spoken and he'd told Christian that he didn't want to blur the professional line between them and Christian had to respect that, albeit with copious amounts of reluctance.

This didn't stop Christian's lustful mind imagining all the different places he could bend Taylor over and fuck into next week.

He bit his lip. An image of Taylor on his knees in front of Christian this very moment muddied his vision. He could almost hear Taylor panting with need, eager to please his Master.

Christian ran his hand down to squeeze his erection through the material of his suit trousers, remembering how it had felt when Taylor had rubbed himself against Christian in his wanton pursuit of friction. Christian shouldn't have stopped kissing him when the elevator opened. He should have grabbed Taylor by his junk and pulled him straight to the breakfast bar.

Christian closed his eyes and unzipped his pants, pulling them down along with his boxers so that his erection could be touched more freely. It felt shameful wanking over a man who was literally just in the next room but Christian was so uptight and frustrated that he needed a release now. He'd not had sex in nearly a month, with organising the move to Escala and the death threats intensifying and then hiring Taylor. Christian couldn't remember the last time he'd had a dry spell this long and it was horrible.

He began by giving his balls a firm but fair squeeze, slipping his hand northwards and dragging a nail under his shaft to the head of his dick. With his free hand he opened a cupboard by the sink and pulled out the spare lube from the back of the cabinet. He usually kept all lubricants in the Playroom but this bottle was specifically for himself when he was in too much need to wait for his submissive coming over.

He imagined Taylor's hand on his dick, lathering up his shaft with lubricant before kissing him again. Biting his lip. Christian groaned and ran a finger along his bottom lip, still utterly shocked that Taylor had bitten him. The sharp pain had sent a stabbing electric shock right to Christian's dick and almost made him cum in his trousers. It had come out of nowhere but it had been so exciting.

"Fuck," Christian mumbled, starting off at a slow pace before cranking it up a notch. His mind went back to that kiss and how desperate Taylor had reciprocated it, how he'd nearly torn out Christian's hair and crushed their hips together. The bodyguard was a phenomenal kisser. It had been the first time anyone had challenged his dominance in a kiss like that.

He squeezed himself tightly and continued to pump his head, imagining Taylor spread bare on the bed in the playroom, crying and begging to cum. Christian would insert a vibrating plug into his ass and keep the tempo at the same infuriatingly slow level. He'd run the crop over Taylor cock before slapping him hard enough to make him scream. Christian could imagine his hips bucking up as he hovered his hand above his head, trying to get some friction to reach the climax that Christian would keep denying him.

Christian's own hand began to speed up as he felt his own released nearing. He closed his eyes and kept thinking about Taylor begging Christian to let him finish and argue about his denial. Because Taylor would argue, Christian was positive that he would be a bunking bronco when it came to submitting and that was a challenge Christian wanted.

"F-fuck," Christian huffed, catching some of his cum in his hand and the rest aimed into the sink. He panted, and sighed, rinsing the sink bowl, his hands and also his dick. He groaned lowly; he was feeling slightly better but a wank wasn't going to be enough to rid his need and interest in Taylor.

Christian was pulling up his pants when someone knocked on the bathroom door, "I'm shitting. What is it?" Christian cursed himself a little at his own bluntness but surely telling Taylor he was taking a dump was better than admitting that he was imagining taking him to the playroom whilst he masturbated.

"That's the delivery here," Taylor called, amusement in his voice, "I'm plating up."

"Okay," Christian called, "I'll be five minutes."

* * *

"I'm sorry for kissing you earlier. You're right; I should have thought about my actions first. It was an oversight in control on my behalf," Christian admitted, looking up at Taylor as he took a bite out of a pizza he'd completely drenched in tomato ketchup. It was disgusting but amusing to Christian; he'd never seen a grown man use so much sauce on his food before.

"There's no reason to apologise," Taylor said after he'd chewed and swallowed, "I kissed back. It wasn't one sided. There was an oversight in control for me too."

"Have you ever kissed a man before?" Christian asked bluntly, studying his rugged face.

"Don't ask, don't tell," Taylor said, echoing the exact words he'd used in his interview to Christian, "I'm not prepared to tell you that."

"So you have then, otherwise it wouldn't bother you to just say," Christian mused, taking a bite of his own pizza, "I don't care if you have or haven't. I've been with men in the past, kissed and then some. It's never been something I've overly been attracted to. In fact I've only ever kissed one man on impulse because I've wanted to."

"Dare I ask who?" Taylor choked, grabbing his orange juice.

"You know," Christian admitted with no hint of embarrassment. "For the record, I would kiss you again but I respect your right to say 'no'."

"I'm not gay," Taylor bleated again, as if that made a difference to Christian.

"Nether am I. I'm not straight either. I am a Master, a Dominant. To me, that's enough of a label. Anything else is a waste of breath."

"So men, women, it's all the same to you?" Taylor clarified, mid bite.

"I wouldn't say that because, obviously, there's anatomical differences. But in terms of domination, I don't see it," Christian explained, shaking his head as Taylor wiped ketchup from his white shirt, "You're a klutz."

Taylor chuckled and nodded, "Heads up; I'm a messy eater."

"I'd be lying if I said I hadn't noticed," Christian replied, recalling the countless times he'd seen Taylor, the sharp eyes former US Marine, struggle to coordinate his hands and mouth together when holding food, "Are you okay?"

"Of course," Taylor nodded, looking at Christian with that odd expression of want. Christian had heard the term 'Lost in someone's eyes' but with Taylor he finally understood it. It felt big headed to think about, but Taylor always appeared to be lost in some sort of trance whenever he stared directly into Christian's eyes, as though losing himself completely for a moment. It was an incredibly feeling to Christian; he'd never had someone brave enough to stare at him directly. Maybe Elena was the only other person outside his family? Everyone else bowed their heads around him, though that was usually because he'd commanded them to do so. Taylor met his eye and every time he did, Christian felt his stomach flip with an unusual excitement.

"You're an odd man," Christian mumbled, smiling when Taylor's lips twitched on the right hand side and began to form that cheeky lopsided smirk, "I'm good with people; but I can't figure out what makes you tick. It's the strangest thing."

"Yeah?" Taylor's gaze dipped to Christian's lips and he let out a pained sigh, like a thirsty man being denied a cool gin from the bar. It made Christian's mouth go dry and he needed to lick his lips which Taylor watched.

It shocked Christian when Taylor leant in and lightly pressed his lips to Christian's, slowly and inquisitively. It was a soft kiss, an unsure kiss, but that did not stop Christian gently and caress Taylor's jaw with his thumb.

After a few moments of small, explorative kisses, Christian took lead and opened his mouth, inviting Taylor to do the same. Initially, the man seemed to falter and perhaps panic but Christian didn't let him back away. Instead he grabbed the back of Taylor's head tightly and pulled him down against Christian's body.

It was a movement which Christian had never experienced; someone lying on top of him. Usually when it came to his submissives Christian preferred to take on the dominant position and pin them. He sensed Taylor's unease, however, and fought through the feelings of vulnerability for Taylor to feel more comfortable.

The moan which Taylor released as he upped his game and worked his tongue against Christian's went straight to his dick. He didn't touch Christian's body, supporting his weight on his powerful arms in a position he was most likely used to; being on top during a kissing session.

He bit Christian's lip in a move that wasn't painful but wasn't gentle, sending shockwaves of arousal through Christian's body. He couldn't help bring his hips up against Taylor's involuntarily, seeking friction. Taylor responded by grinding his own noticeable arousal against Christian's in a circular movement of his hips that drove Christian mad.

"Fuck," Christian growled, breaking their lips to nibble Jason's strong neck.

"I, uh, don't know what I'm doing here," Taylor said bashfully, clamping up on his hip movements but tilting his head to allow Christian access to his neck better, "Oh god."

Christian ran his head down between their bodies and grabbed hold of Taylor's junk with a squeeze that caused Taylor to squeak in surprise, "That okay?"

"Yeah," Taylor nodded, lifting his head and kissing Christian hungrily. Christian took the invite to open Taylor's fly, pushing his hand down into his briefs-

"Bro?"

Christian and Taylor froze as they heard the distinct sound of the elevator door 'bing' open and slide close.

"Hide!" Christian snapped in a sharp whisper, Taylor already rolling off of Christian and the sofa. Like the Marine he was, Christian watched as he rolled twice in a crouch, hiding behind the heavy black curtains by the piano.

"Christian?"

"E-elliot?" Christian choked, pulling his erection up into his waist band of his trousers as he sat up on the sofa, "What are you doing here?"

"You left your wallet," Elliot explained, walking over to the sitting area, "I was getting a cab back to my place so I told mom I'd drop it off." He frowned when he saw the two large boxes of pizza, eyeing up the two glasses which contained Taylor's OJ and the Pepsi Christian had got from the takeaway.

"Have you got someone over?" Elliot asked, sitting on the armchair where Taylor had draped over his dinner jacket. Christian held his breath; surely Elliot wasn't that obnoxious that he'd not remember what colour of suit Taylor had been wearing for dinner?

Thankfully, Elliot was clearly still drunk from dinner and more focused on stealing a slice of pizza, helping himself, "Mmmm."

"No, no one's here. I just wanted pizza and couldn't decide which type." Christian tried to explain. He noticed Taylor's wallet was sitting on the coffee table alongside his mobile phone. Elliot seemed so focused on eat that he hadn't spied it so Christian quickly picked up his napkin and placed it down over the wallet and phone. Shit, how blind was Elliot, Christian asked himself as he tried to play cool and grab another slice.

"So where's Taylor?" Elliot asked, chewing with his mouth open.

Christian frowned, "With his wife and daughter now?"

"Shit, he's married with a kid?" Elliot whistled, "Well that's a relief."

"Why?" Christian asked, watching Elliot continue to help himself.

"I dunno," Elliot shrugged, "I just thought you and him were maybe butt buddies."

"Elliot," Christian scolded, "Can you at least try and not be so crude."

"Well it's true. You never bring guests to dinner and suddenly you're bringing a man? Mom was practically googling ministers who did same-sexed weddings," Elliot admitted, "I mean, it doesn't bother us if you are a faggot-"

"Stop using that word too," Christian huffed in exasperation, "Honestly, Elliot. Learn a little tact, would you?"

"Here, I'm just saying that if you are a butt pirate then cool. But you could do so much better than that guy," Elliot pressed, "He's not exactly pretty is he?"

"He looks fine, Elliot," Christian groaned, dropping his head in his hands.

"Well yeah, he looks like a human. But you're a solid ten outta ten. He's maybe a six?" Elliot chuckled, "I'm just saying, Bro, if you are a faggo-" he stopped when he saw Christian's glare, "I mean, gay, you could do so much better."

"It's noted, Elliot. But I'm not gay," Christian stressed, "I'm not."

"Well that's a bit of a relief," Elliot chuckled, "I dunno how dad felt about that Taylor guy. I dunno how any of them felt, actually. He's different, isn't he? Like he's not on our level?"

"Yeah, he is different," Christian agreed, "But-"

"Shit, my cab driver's calling me," Elliot mumbled, looking at his mobile as it buzzed in his hand, "Shit, okay, love you little Bro," he said quickly, grabbing four slices of Taylor's pizza and running to the door, "I'll catch up with you soon, yeah?"

"Yeah bro," Christian called after him, "Let me know when you get home safe, okay?"

"Pffft, okay _Mom_ ," Elliot winked and vanished behind the sliding doors.

Christian felt a wave of relief wash over him, falling back onto the sofa and slumping against the plush cushions. He looked up as Taylor slipped out from behind the curtains, refastening his zipper and belt as he moved.

"Sorry about Elliot," Christian sighed.

Taylor shook his head, "No, don't be. It was good he did what he did."

Christian frowned and watched as Taylor went to the sink instead of joining Christian again on the sofa. He filled a glass of water, rinsed it, then filled it again before taking a deep gulp.

"What do you mean?" Christian asked, turning in his seat to watch him.

"That shouldn't have happened. None of that was okay," Taylor shrugged, "It was a mistake."

"How?" Christian frowned.

Taylor's lip lifted into that annoying half-assed smirk, "Well I'm different."

"Taylor, that's not what I meant," Christian cursed, "Jesus."

"I don't need to hear any more. We're two different people," Taylor stated, "I'm going to bed."

"Taylor-" Christian called after him, cursing as he closed his bedroom door.


	17. Chapter 17

**WARNING; Rated M for future m/m and adult themes, this is not going to be a CG/Ana fic. It will be a CG/Taylor**

 **Chapter; 17.**

Different was the word of the week for Jason.

Their relationship was definitely different. Jason wasn't engaging with Christian like he had been and was instead focusing entirely on keeping Christian alive using as little communication as possible. They'd attended a gallery opening with Elena one evening this week and, despite Christian's best attempts to include Jason in chats about the provocative flowers, it really drove home their differences all the more. Christian and Elena spoke about colours, shapes, the pictures history…Jason saw nothing but vaginas. Occasionally a cock but mostly vaginas. Christian and Elena left feeling elated, Jason had left feeling uneducated.

Christian's attitude at work was different too. He would never admit it but he was shorter, more abrupt and angry. Poor Andrea appeared to bear the brunt of Christian's stinking moods but Ros had also received a few scathing comments. The change in Christian's attitude was good from a business perspective; he had thrown himself completely into his work, leaving Jason to worry about keeping him alive finally. From a personal relations and HR angle Jason wondered how many employees would be seeking advice.

Escala was different too; neither Christian nor Jason spoke to one and other, though that was really because Jason wasn't willing to engage with Christian. After all, Jason was 'different' and he had no business confusing Christian right now whilst he was at his most vulnerable. It was textbook infatuation, Jason was positive. He'd experienced it many times from female clients who saw him as a powerful, mysterious, protective figure and latched onto deranged bodyguard fantasies. Jason had never been tempted by historical attempts of seduction, never touched and never kissed a client before until this job. Every day he was reminded of his attraction to Christian and the mutual feelings he shared. It took so much effort to banish thoughts of lust from his mind that Jason was exhausted and sexually frustrated. He was shorter than usual, much like Christian, and he'd been struggling to sleep. But he was different which was something he reminded himself of multiple times throughout the day to cut his daydreaming short before it turned sexual.

Perhaps the most infuriating difference was in Jason himself and why he gave a fuck that Christian thought he was 'different'. Perhaps it was because Jason thought they'd both shared some similarities. Both had grown up in hungry, impoverished homes in Detroit city. Both considered themselves to be very powerful dominant men in their respective jobs because of their less than perfect childhoods. Both had a passion for wanting to make the world a better place, albeit their methods of doing so were different. To hear Christian call Jason different was actually hurtful, which was a shock to Jason's system as before he couldn't give a damn if his clients liked him or not and it pissed him off all the more. Christian Grey had gotten under his skin and try as Jason might, he couldn't get him out of his mind which was dangerous; Jason needed to be completely alert on his surroundings to keep Christian safe.

But then again, lying in bed with Christian would mean Jason could watch the man twenty four seven, Jason thought. But his was different, he reminded himself as he dialled up his favourite number that evening.

"Hey baby girl," Jason sighed, sinking his ass down on the cushioned sofa. He needed to hear his best friend's adorable little voice to get reassurance for what he was working for, "Daddy's missing you."

"Hiya Daddy," Sophie chimed lyrically. Jason put his head in his hands; he missed her more than he thought humanly imaginable, "Mommy's gotted me's cookies!"

"Mommy got you a cookie?" Jason echoed with a chuckle, closing his eyes and envisioning himself in the family kitchen. It was small and narrow, like the rest of the family bungalow and Lynn kept the cupboards well stocked in case Jason made a last minute visit to see them both. Two adults barely fit in the tight room, in fact Jason's shoulders nearly touched the cabinets on either side of the walls. But it was a perfect space to Jason, a beautiful sunflower yellow colour with Sophie's art work everywhere. IT was the closest thing to home he'd known in his life, "What kind of cookie, Darling?"

"'s a pink one!" Sophie declared excitedly, "Me's likes pinks."

"Well, guess what," Jason whispered loudly, "Can you keep a secret? Don't even tell mommy."

"No," Sophie giggled with her cheeky little laugh, Jason able to visualise her angelic little face and chubby rounded cheeks.

"Well I'm trusting you," Jason continued, wiping a tear that had no business forming, "Daddy likes pink too."

Sophie gasped in horror, "But you're a boy!"

"Boys like pink too," Jason assured her, "Don't tell anyone though, baby. Our secret."

"I'm tellin' mommy. MOMMMMMY DADDY IS LIKES PINKS!"

Jason grinned, and shook his head, "I'll see you soon pumpkin, yeah? Mommy says you're doing really well with the potty. When Daddy's finished working I'm gonna rent us a big ol' boat and we can go looking for Mermaids on the Sound, okay?"

"Thank you daddy, thank you, thank you!" Sophie gasped again, this time in sheer joy, "How many minutes till you be finched?"

"I don't know how many minutes till I finish, Sophie," Jason said, unable to keep the pain from his voice, "But I'll try and get finished soon. I need to make sure my boss is safe first though and then I'll go straight to you, okay?"

He heard the creak of a floorboard and looked up quickly to see that Christian had emerged from his office this evening and was well within ear shot of Jason's phone call. He was trying to look as though he hadn't overheard Jason's personal conversations, but the way he averted his eyes from Jason's spoke volumes.

"Daddy's got to go. I'll call you again soon?" Jason said, clearing his throat, "I love you."

"I love you too Daddy,"

It pained Jason to hang up on his little girl but he'd thought Christian was holding himself up in his office tonight like he'd done every other night this week. With a sigh, Jason wiped his eyes and grunted, standing up and pocketing his phone as he composed himself and picked up his mug of coffee.

"Your daughter sounds like a real character," Christian stated, opening the fridge and helping himself to a packet of sliced cheese. Sawyer was in town and had raided about half of the super markets in Seattle to find enough food to fill Escala's extensive cupboard space. Even in the events of an Apocalypse, they'd now have enough food to survive decades…or at least until Gail returned and began cooking for them again.

"She is," Jason said, averting his eyes from Christian's gaze. He couldn't look at those beautiful grey irises or he'd lose himself in them and allow his pain to show; he missed his daughter more than ever.

"You miss her," Christian continued to press, placing the cheese on the breakfast bar and crossing his arms over his chest and leaning against the fridge, "You were crying."

"I wasn't crying," Jason snapped a little too hostilely, shaking his head at the brass neck of Christian to even think of saying such a emasculating thing to Jason, "And yes, I do miss her. She's my best friend and it's been months since I last saw her."

"Months?" Christian echoed.

"Remember I came to you after I was pirate hunting; I hadn't even had a shower before our interview," Jason reminded him, "Look, just drop it. I don't like talking about my daughter with clients."

"I bet she's got a cheeky smirk," Christian continued, as though he enjoyed seeing Jason in pain and wanted to twist the knife which he felt he had lodged in his throat, "Is she blonde too?"

Jason narrowed his eyes and grunted, deciding to ignore Christian's probing questions. It was difficult to do however as Christian's hauntingly beautiful grey eyes burned a hole in the back of Jason's head.

"Why don't you invite her to Escala one day? I can work from the office, even for just a few hours?" Christian offered.

"You have a sex dungeon. Hardly going to get father of the year for bringing her here," Jason snapped, "Besides; my daughter never comes to work with me. Don't be so stupid."

"It's hardly stupi-"

"Your letter writer shoots the reception staff downstairs," Jason interrupted Christian with a harsh real life scenario, "he gets upstairs. You, Sophie and I are playing happy fucking families and he shoots. Who do you think I'm going to protect and who do you think I'm throwing at the gunman as a shield to give me crucial minutes to get my daughter to safety?"

Christian shook his head but didn't comment after said scenario. Instead he muttered under his breath, "I was trying to be nice, Taylor."

"We're different people, Christian. There's different rules for me and for you," Jason reminded him.

"You're taking that out of context, Taylor," Christian snapped now, forgetting his cheese and walking towards him angrily, "Yes, I said you're different to me and Elliot but you're not willing to listen to what I meant by that."

"You said enough."

"No," Christian challenged, "I don't think I have. You're different to me, Taylor, because you're the first person I've ever felt comfortable around. Felt like I could be my complete self around; I don't need to dom things up, I don't need to act like I'm not okay because I'm not. I'm not fucking okay. I'm a million miles from being okay. But I feel safe with you around and that's what I think is so fucking different Taylor. Now knock that fucking chip off your goddamn shoulder; we're going out."

"Where are we going?" Jason frowned, momentarily speechless as he took in what Christian was saying. It didn't remove the sting from his original conversation with Elliot but it certainly made his stomach flutter again.

"Out. I'm sick of being in this fucking mood, Taylor," Christian snapped, walking towards his bedroom.

* * *

There was one thing Seattle was good for; coffee. They found one of those new age hipster, open mic cafes which was opened late in the evening. Jason could smell the liberalism as he stepped inside but he could have been mistaken for pot.

"What do you want?" Christian asked, his hair glowing beautifully in the dimly lit shack. The orange tinge from the lights highlighted his copper hair and produced a colour which Jason reckoned was almost angelic.

"Black," he said, opening his wallet to pay. Christian shooed him away with a slap of his hand, ordering for himself before they went to get a seat close to tonight's performer; a singer with a beard like a Viking and the figure like a Victoria's secret's model. If Sophie ever introduced Jason to a man like that he was certain he'd commit a felony.

"He sounds okay," Christian mused as he sat, looking at the performer, "Can't say the same for his image."

"I was thinking the same thing," Jason mused, ripping a sachet of sugar to sweeten his coffee ever so slightly, "Wonder how long he's worked with PETA?"

Christian laughed, "Good one," he said and looked down at his own coffee, "I meant what I said earlier, Taylor. I'm glad you're here with me. I'm sorry for my dickhead brother."

"Everyone thinks their siblings are the biggest dickhead; you're okay," Jason shrugged, lifting the stupidly dainty but ultra-alternative tea cup to his lips and sipping.

"You said you had a sibling," Christian said, though his sentence was loaded with unspoken question. Jason sighed.

"Had's the word. Dead," he replied, watching the man on stage break into some sort of rap country hybrid style. Memories of Sophia were tough for Jason. He remembered times when money was tight and food was scarce for the family, Sophia had come home with a pizza she'd made at Church and they'd all eaten it in the living room/mom and pa's room by candle light. Jason had never tasted pizza that good in his life, and had never tasted it again.

"Sorry to hear that," Christian said with genuine sympathy. Jason turned back and looked directly into those enchanting eyes, "Was it recent?"

"No, not really," Jason admitted, "My sister Sophia. It was very sudden."

"Was she ill?"

"Nah; wrong place, wrong time," Jason replied, deciding he'd told Christian too much. It was easier to be vague than to ignore his question completely. He redirected the conversation back to Christian, "What about your sister? What's her story?"

"Mia?" Christian laughed, "I mean I know you've probably already researched everything possible that there is to know about my family but I'll humour you," he joked and put his own fancy tea cup down, "Mia was probably the only planned addition to the family. Mom wanted a little girl and they found Mia. I don't know much about Mia's mother, other than she was young, but that's really it. Mia's Mia. A pain in the ass but I love her to pieces. I think getting her was really the moment everything started clicking for me. I had missed out on a lot of critical milestones and was delayed across the board on a number of crucial skills. I could walk and run, but I couldn't speak, wasn't toilet trained completely till I was nearly six, I was afraid of most adults, even Grace for a long time, and I would bite. Carrick has a scar on his arm actually where I bit him when I thought he was going to take my snack from me," Christian laughed and waved a hand as though waving the trauma away like it was nothing.

To Jason, he thought about his own shitty childhood and then the childhood of his daughter. He could never imagine his Sophie experiencing the pain and suffering Christian must have endured. Even the mere thought made him feel excruciatingly sick.

"When Mia came into our lives I had responsibilities," Christian chuckled, "Or that's how Elliot put it. He told me, and I remember it like it was yesterday, 'you gotsta find your balls cause me and you needa be big brothers.' And I remember asking him what that meant and he just said 'means were gonna beat up boys and play princesses sometimes'."

"Elliot sounds like a character," Jason said before sipping his teacup.

"He is," Christian nodded with a laugh, "He's completely dense and doesn't have a single ounce of tact in his body but he's like a big puppy really; he says stupid things and doesn't seem to understand that they could be offensive."

"I realised that," Jason chuckled, looking back towards the stage and watching as the ultra-hipster artist began with a poem section. Around them, people seemed to be enjoying his work and were engaged with his performance. He wasn't completely terrible but Jason preferred something a little more country and a little less pushing boundaries.

"So you had a sister too?" Christian commented, "How many boys did you beat up for her?"

Jason smirked and shook his head, "I got into plenty fights without Sophia's help. When I turned seventeen my father gave me the number for a Corps recruitment officer and threw me out of the family house. Best thing he ever did for me."

"You were homeless at seventeen?" Christian frowned, "That doesn't sound like a good thing."

"It was for me," Jason shrugged, "I was pushing my luck; heavy drinking, fighting, skipping school, drugs at some point. I was acting like a big man when I was only a boy. The marines changed that."

"When I was that age I was the same," Christian replied, "The teenage angst thing I mean. I was drinking a lot. Maybe a bottle of vodka a day over the summer holidays. I broke Carrick's nose actually. I wasn't disciplined; after my childhood, mom and Carrick didn't have the ability to discipline me but you can't blame them for that. By the time I'd made headway with a therapist they'd already created a monster."

"So what happened to you then?" Jason asked, "What got you on the straight and narrow?"

"Elena," Christian admitted, confusing Jason with his answer. He looked over at the stage now and Jason knew that he wasn't getting the full story, "She helped channel my anger, redirect it, taught me a little discipline. I can't decide if I like that musician."

Jason took the hint to not press him, looking up at the artist again too, "I'm starting to warm to him," he admitted, smirking again as Christian looked back at him, burning a hole through his body with those precious eyes.

"Your smirk, I swear Taylor," Christian mumbled and shook his head, "I'm going to smack that off your face one day if you're not careful."

"Darling," Jason challenged, sitting forward on his arms, "I'd like to see you try."


	18. Chapter 18

**WARNING; Rated M for future m/m and adult themes, this is not going to be a CG/Ana fic. It will be a CG/Taylor**

 **Chapter; 18.**

Walking out of that little dimly lit coffee house, Christian and Taylor were hit with a cool evening draft. Taylor pulled his leather coat tighter around his chest. He'd stuck out like a sore thumb in there; dressed in black combat trousers with hundreds of pockets, a black t-shirt and a heavy leather jacket. Christian realised he was the only man not wearing denim, even Christian had his jeans and jumper on.

Still he was the man that Christian couldn't keep from staring at. It took all of his will power to remember Taylor had said specifically that he wasn't interested and didn't want to kiss Christian. Christian needed to respect that which was a crying shame.

"The city always looks beautiful at night," Christian commented, as they walked along the sidewalk, "It's a different place; there's a different feel."

"I know what you mean," Taylor commented, eyes scanning their path, "So what's your favourite movie?"

"What?" Christian frowned, looking up at Taylor as they walked side by side.

"I asked you in the interview what movies you liked and you never answered," Taylor said with a shrug, "I was just curious."

Christian was honestly shocked that Taylor had remembered that, finding it oddly sweet of the giant Neanderthal. He smiled and looked down to the kerb, "I don't know. I loved the Chronicles of Riddick."

"Really?" Taylor chuckled, "Weird."

"Why's that weird?" Christian pressed, "There's nothing wrong with Riddick."

"I just never placed you as the sci-fi type," Taylor mused, that mocking lopsided smirk creeping up the left side of his face.

"What's your favourite movie then?" Christian offered.

"I don't know," Taylor laughed, shaking his head.

Christian rolled his eyes, "You must have a favourite film if you fly around the world globally for a living. What's your favourite inflight movie?" he gazed up at Taylor and laughed when he caught the man's cheeks burning red, "You're blushing!"

"No I'm not," Taylor grumbled, averting his eyes.

Christian shoved him playfully with a smirk, "Come on. Spit it out Mr Alpha Male. What's your favourite film? I promise I wont laugh."

"Look it's not even that interesting," Taylor huffed, stopping walking and squeezing the bridge of his nose with his eyes closed, "Breakfast at Tiffany's."

"…what?!" Christian laughed loudly, shoving Taylor again, "Are you being serious?"

"It's a good movie," Taylor mumbled, rolling his eyes again, "Stop laughing."

"Okay," Christian chuckled, "Okay, I'm stopping," he said as they lapsed into silence once more on the walk back to Escala. Taylor refused to look at Christian again because he probably sensed that Christian was still giggling quietly to himself, unable to stop smiling at the idea of big bad Taylor watching lil' Audrey Hepburn and Cat.

He wasn't even aware that he was doing it, but Christian began whistling. And then humming. And then singing.

"Oh dream maker, you heart breaker. Where ever you're goin', I'm goin your way," he mumbled under his breath, "Two drifters off to see the world. There's such a lotta world to see-"

Taylor stopped again and turned left up the side of an alleyway, interrupting Christian's little serenade, "Come here."

Christian frowned as he followed Taylor, unsure why the man would lead him up the side of two buildings out of sight of the main walkway. He decided that it was probably because Taylor needed to piss, after two black coffees and no bathroom break whilst he 'worked'. He maybe couldn't wait till they got home.

"What's up-" Christian started before lapsing into silence as Taylor's hand gently caressed Christian's cheek. Before Christian could react, Taylor pressed his lips lightly against Christian's own in a kiss which was soft and gentle, unlike their previous hungry and desperate kisses before. Not that it didn't have the same effect on Christian as their previous encounters. He felt a spark ignite through his entire body, starting from his tip toes and burning through his blood like wildfire.

Taylor didn't flinch when Christian manoeuvred his lips open by slipping in his tongue, brushing it against Taylor's slowly whilst his arms snaked around Taylor's body to bring him closer. He ran one hand up and down his back under his leather jacket, the other placed firmly at the curve of his spine.

"Mmm," Taylor mumbled, pressing his forehead against Christian's, "I've wanted to do that all week," he admitted, leaning back in to kiss him again. Christian pressed his body tightly against Taylor's before gently pushing him back up against the wall.

Taylor let Christian pin him, biting Christian's lip playfully. The sharp bite went straight to Christian's dick and really revved him up but his blood went cold the minute Taylor ran his hands up and under Christian's jumper, touching his scars suddenly. He faltered kissing but Taylor didn't seem to notice that it was in fear as he began to feather his neck with little kisses and nibbles.

"You smell amazing," Taylor mumbled, thumb stroking Christian's chest, directly above one of his scars

"T-Taylor," Christian muttered, swallowing his sudden anxieties, "Can you not touch me there?" he asked sheepishly then added quickly so that Taylor understood why, "I have scars."

Without needing to be told any more information, Taylor removed his hands instantly from Christian's torso before slapping them directly on Christian's ass. With a laugh, he squeezed it. He gave Christian that playful smirk as he pulled Christian's hips tight against his own and then nodded, "That feels a million times better to me, what about you?"

Christian laughed because Taylor's understanding made him feel so light headed with relief and happiness, "You're oddly adorable," he grinned, grinding his hips against Taylor's, "I don't think I've ever made out with someone in an alley before."

"Well you said you liked 'Different'," Taylor pointed out, his murky coloured eyes narrowing suddenly when Christian grabbed a hold of his erection through the material of his combats. He let out a needy sigh as Christian massaged him, pressing himself against Christian's hand. His desperation to be touched was incredibly arousing to Christian; if Taylor was so in need it wouldn't take long for Christian to break down the alpha male's walls and have him begging for Christian to relieve him.

"Enjoying that?" Christian mumbled, nibbling Taylor's ear as he opened the man's fly. There was a noticeable wet spot on the man's black briefs which Christian was currently experiencing in his own boxers.

"Yes," Taylor said wistfully then added with that lopsided smirk that Christian both loathed and loved, "Sir."

Sir, Christian echoed in his mind, suddenly pulling the man's trousers down to his thighs along with his briefs. Taylor jumped at the impulsivity and went to say something but Christian rammed his tongue practically down Taylor's throat. He grabbed hold of the man's dick and began to jerk it ferociously, making Taylor groan and gasp against Christian's lips. When he felt Taylor's hips pumping forward he slowed down his hand, letting go completely when Taylor tried to get him to speed up.

"Why are you stopping?" Taylor growled in frustration, gasping loudly when Christian grabbed his balls in a sudden vice grip.

"You're moving. I didn't give you permission to move," Christian muttered, "In fact," he began pulling Taylor's briefs back up his beefy thighs and over his pulsing erection, despite Taylor's whines of protest and bucking hips, "you deserve to be punished for acting without permission so lets get back to Escala."

"I was literally about to cum," Taylor growled in a low and frustrated voice, struggling to get his fly back up comfortably.

"And you'll get to cum," Christian promised, "if you do everything I say when we get back to Escala."

Taylor groaned and slumped back against the wall, looking around the alley way suddenly. Christian did the same, realising he'd been jerking Taylor off in a relatively public place. Thank fuck no one was around and Taylor had pulled them far enough into the alley way that they couldn't be seen behind the large industrial trash cans and fire escape stairwell.

Now that they'd stopped kissing, Christian noticed the smell of urine, the rubbish littering the ground, a discarded condom and a questionable pair of ladies underwear lurking behind the bins. It had seemed so romantic when they'd been focused only on each other but now reality had set in for Christian and he realised where they were and what they'd been doing.

"Fuck, I didn't notice the wall was wet," Taylor complained as he walked forwards, "I think I leant against some piss."

"Better get you home and out of those clothes then," Christian chuckled, slipping his hand down the back of Taylor's trousers to squeeze his ass before they rejoined the sidewalk and practically ran back to Escala.

 **Next chapter soon; will contain lemon.**


	19. Chapter 19

**WARNING; Rated M for future m/m and adult themes, this is not going to be a CG/Ana fic. It will be a CG/Taylor**

 **Chapter; 19.**

Christian felt Taylor's front deliberately pressing up against his back, the man's mouth inches from his neck and breathing hot air on his skin, making Christian shudder and his stomach knot in excitement and anticipation. He struggled to remember how he'd ended up in this position but felt the need to pinch himself to be sure he wasn't dreaming.

Christian allowed his body to lean back against Taylor's for support, groaning lowly when his neck was kissed and nibbled and sucked in a teasing, playfully manner. Taylor's hands did not stray up Christian's chest like he was asked but they did snake round to the front of his trousers to cop a feel for the first time.

The noise Taylor made when he appeared to realise how well-endowed Christian was had the businessman chuckle lowly and smirk with pride.

"Shit," Taylor mumbled as he squeezed Christian's shaft through his jeans, "You're...a handful."

"What I lack in a charming personality I make up for with inches," Christian commented, enjoying Taylor's soft and gentle exploration of his dick. He wasn't rough like Christian had expected from a man as large and powerful as Taylor. Instead he was oddly gentle which was nice. How nice it would be later on when Christian was wanting more, however, was up for debate.

"You must be a miserable bastard then," Taylor joked and then added with a lick on Christian's ear, " _Sir_."

Sir.

Christian pushed himself up tight against Taylor's hips, grinding his ass against the man's own erection. Taylor groaned lowly and bit down on Christian's shoulder as he rubbed back frantically, a strong arm holding Christian's waist tightly.

What is it about elevators?

The doors couldn't slide open quick enough for Christian. When they eventually parted, he turned around and wrapped his arms around Taylor's thick neck, bringing his lips down to meet Christian's in a kiss which expressed his hunger and desire and need at that very moment.

Taylor reciprocated, thank fuck, wrapping an arm around Christian's neck and pulling him impossibly close against Taylor's hard, muscular body. Together they clumsily made their way to the nearest surface they could get; the new sideboard cabinet, three steps from the main entrance.

Taylor hoisted Christian up with no invitation, standing between his legs as he continued to attack Christian's tongue with his own. Christian, in return, was not used to being picked up and thrown around like a ragdoll and found the current position very alien. He'd never had a man grab him like this and stand between his legs in an all-out dominant alpha male stance. In fact, this was something he usually did with his submissives; not the other way around. He didn't like it.

The lack of control Christian suddenly experienced was sharp and brought with it a sudden feeling of anxiety which made his kissing falter and his breathing change. He opened his eyes and pulled back, leaning away when Taylor went to kiss him again.

"What's wrong?" Taylor frowned, dropping his hands to Christian's hips and studying him closely with those murky coloured eyes. They looked green in this light, Christian thought, a muddy swamp-like green. They were a peculiar colour but then again Taylor was a very peculiar man.

"Nothing's wrong," Christian reassured him, looking towards the sofas, "I just want to move the party to somewhere comfortable."

That brought back Taylor's lopsided smirk and he nodded, "Would you like a drink, _Master_ Grey?"

Christian laughed, "You're a cheeky asshole," he chimed, sliding off the unit and heading to the seating area, "a gin, Taylor. Promto." As Taylor walked away, Christian spanked his ass hard, causing the man to jump in surprise, looking over his shoulder at Christian with a curious expression, "Move."

Taylor laughed and headed to the bar, grabbing Christian a drink and making himself some weird non-alcoholic monstrosity. Knowing Taylor's eating habits, he'd probably poured tomato ketchup into the glass; the man drank the horrible sweet stuff.

When he returned, he wasted no time in kissing Christian again, making to push him on his back and against the cushioned pillows and velvet black throw blanket. Christian allowed him to do this, welcoming Taylor's weight onto his chest. There was a lack of control in being under a man as heavy as Taylor was but it meant that Christian's chest was completely covered in case Taylor forgot himself and touched his burn scars.

Christian groaned when Taylor bit his lip again, losing himself in the heat of the moment as he ran his hands down the back of Taylor's combats and groped the man's firm, muscular beefy ass. The movement was met with approval from Taylor, or so Christian thought, feeling Taylor grind his erection against Christian's as they made out. Christian groaned and ran a finger down Taylor's crack and-

"Nope!" Taylor gasped, jumping and falling from Christian's body and landing in a heap on the floor, "What the fuck were you doing?"

Christian rose an eyebrow and waved his hand between the two of them, "I was going to finger you," he said bluntly as he stared at Taylor's blushing cheeks, "Was that not okay?"

"No, it's fine," Taylor said with a wince so clearly it wasn't fine, "I've just never had someone do that to me outside a medical room."

"Your wife never…?" Christian left the end of the question open as he wiggled his pinky.

"No, never," Taylor admitted, "I've never done that to someone either."

"So you've never had anal sex before?" Christian asked, sitting up on the sofa. When Taylor just shrugged, Christian laughed and shook his head, "Well don't worry. Whatever this is between us, we go slow. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have assumed you'd be okay with be penetrating you like that without warning."

"Thanks and, sorry," Taylor added, "Sorry if I've ruined the mood."

"You've not," Christian laughed, "Get your ass back on this couch and kiss me again, Marine."

Taylor shook his head and gave Christian that lopsided smirk, climbing back up onto the sofa and kissing Christian hard and fast, his hands holding the back of Christian's head so that he couldn't escape his clutches.

"Fuck you're a good kisser," Taylor mumbled, pulling Christian's hair as he let Christian kiss the fuck out of him, submitting to him at long fucking last. Christian could feel the man's body relax and almost become limp as though he didn't want to fight against Christian any more.

It was such a fucking turn on. Christian grabbed Taylor's leather jacket and ripped it off the broad expanse of his shoulders, tearing into his shirt next and throwing it somewhere towards the windows.

Christian had seen Jason's body plenty of times on his way from the en suite to his room with nothing more than a towel wrapped around his trim waist. But up close, Christian was able to see every hair; every scar; every damn freckle. He'd several painful looking scars which striped his torso like a tiger, disrupting the expanse of hair which covered his chest and drifted down his abdomen. Christian followed the trail of hair down the man's impressive eight pack, watching it change from a dusty golden blonde colour to a dark black by the waistband of his trousers.

"What?" Taylor frowned, looking up at Christian with…was he self-conscious?

Christian gently pressed a kiss above the man's waistband before looking up at him, "I thought you'd be blonde all over but your hair gets darker. I've never seen that before on a guy," he explained before shrugging and staring down into Taylor's murky eyes, "You're stunning."

"You're blind," Taylor laughed, then hitched his hips up when Christian squeezed his package. The movement made Christian laugh, grinning at the man's desperation. Slowly, he pulled down the zip of Taylor's heavy black combat trousers, shuffling them down his ass a little so that he could see Taylor's erection through the cotton of his military issue tighty-whities. They were wet with pre-cum which seriously revved things up for Christian.

He grabbed Taylor's cock tightly through the damp material and felt the man biting down on Christian's lip hard.

"Please," Jason begged, "Please Sir."

 _Sir..._

He didn't say it to be cheeky like he'd been doing previously. No, Christian was certain he was saying that because he was submitting to him in this moment. He understood that Christian was running the shots and that it was up to Christian if he let Taylor finish or not.

"Are you horny, Taylor?" Christian teased, slowly lowering the man's boxers and studying his cock. This wasn't his first experience seeing a naked aroused man in person; Elena was partial to a threesome so it wasn't weird or as much of a novelty as Christian would have thought it would feel like.

Taylor's cock was nice, smaller than his own but it was throbbing and wet at the tip with dark hair at the base. He was painfully aroused and twitched badly the minute Christian blew on it to tease him.

"Yes," Taylor growled through gritted teeth, lifting his hips up towards Christian in desperation.

Slowly, Christian started to pump his hand, using the moisture at Taylor's tip as lubricant to make the movement slicker and fluid. He looked up and watched as Taylor's eyes partially closed and his breathing became more of a pant as he was jerked off. Christian leant up and kissed him hard, Taylor's hands fisting Christian's hair tightly as he thrust his hips into his hand.

"Close, Taylor?" Christian smirked, biting Taylor's lip this time and tugging it with his teeth.

" 'm so fucking close," Taylor growled, "Please don't stop. I don't think I can take it if you prolong it."

"That's awfully fast, don't you think?" Christian mused, slowing his hand down which caused Taylor to emit a long, high pitched whine, "Do you normally cum this fast, Mr Taylor?"

"I've not been touched in months; it's been even longer since I last had sex," Taylor admitted with a blush forming behind the wanton flush on his cheeks. He was still rocking his hips as he desperately tried to get Christian to speed up, too in need to realise that Christian had 'mistered' him, "I'm sorry."

"Don't be," Christian smirked, slowing down his hand movements almost completely, much to Taylor's obvious frustrations, "But you're not getting to cum yet."

"What?" Taylor growled in complete outrage, Christian squeezing his firm large balls to remind him who was in charge, "Please Sir."

"Do you think you deserve to cum?"

"I've not touched you like you asked," Taylor whined, "I've only touched your hair and hands. Please let me cum, Sir."

His dick was crimson and twitching as he tried desperately to buck against Christian's hand once more, needing the stimulation. Seeing him so desperate turned Christian on far more that he would have imagined.

"Suck my dick."

"Excuse me?" Taylor choked uncertainly, growing nervous again. Christian realised this was almost completely new to the man. He'd never given a blow job before, let alone had anal sex.

Christian grabbed hold of Taylor's face and kissed away the uncertainty and worry. He pulled back and whispered against his lips once more, "Suck my dick."

"I, ah-" Jason started then gasped when Christian pumped his hand quickly up his shaft, letting go seconds before the man could blow. It was enough teasing to bring back his confidence as he rolled off the couch and dropped to his knees, Christian unzipping his jeans and shimmying them down his ass.

"That's it," Christian groaned, feeling the man before him hesitantly nuzzle his hard on through his boxers.

"I've never done this before," Taylor admitted but he didn't stop exploring Christian's dick like he'd done earlier.

"Just do to me what you want me to do to you and I might return the favour and let you cum," Christian challenged, seeing that smug glint in Taylor's odd eyes return and that familiar lopsided smirk appear. He slowly lowered the waistband of Christian's boxer briefs over his erection and hooked then under his balls.

"You're big," Taylor laughed weakly, "Bigger than me."

"You say the sweetest things," Christian laughed, watching as Taylor slowly cupped his balls and began to roll them in the palm of his hand, applying a little pressure to keep Christian on his toes. With a jump, he felt Taylor running his tongue along his seam, a slow hand beginning to work his shaft. The man was nervous suddenly, Christian saw he wasn't sure of himself and he kept blushing every time Christian let out a groan.

"I'm sorry, Christian. I just can't do this," he stammered nervously, sitting back on his feet and looking everywhere but at Christian's eyes, "I just-"

"Whatever you were doing just now, it felt great," Christian assured the man, holding his chin up to face Christian directly, "Why are you doubting yourself?"

"My ex...she said I was hopeless in bed. I guess I'm just not very good at sex," Taylor admitted shyly, scratching his buzzcut, "Can't be good at everything, right?" he tried to joke away his obvious insecurities, finally staring into Christian's eyes and growing silent. The magnitude of his confession floored Christian; what man willingly tells another he believed he was a shit fuck? Particularly one who put on such a masculine front. The vulnerability and honesty knocked Christian back.

"Taylor, suck my dick," Christian ordered, sitting back on the sofa, "And if you're shit, I'll tell you. But let me decide if you're hopeless myself because what you were doing just now felt perfect and I really want you to do that again."

Taylor continued to stare into Christian's eyes, as though he were in some sort of a trance. Finally, he nodded, grabbing Christian's hips lightly as he slowly ran his tongue up his shaft and swirled his tongue around his head.

"That's it," Christian instructed, feeling Taylor finally accept him into his mouth, "Your mouth is so warm," he smiled, looking down and watching as Taylor's head bobbed up and down, flicking his tip with each upward pull and suck, "Faster."

Taylor nodded, his hand going back to Christian's balls and firmly rubbing the seam of his nuts again. That must be something that Taylor enjoyed himself, Christian thought, and it did feel oddly pleasurable too. He was certainly paying more attention to his balls than any of his submissives ever did.

"How far can you take me into your mouth?" Christian asked, Taylor looking up with those murky greeny blue eyes, Christian's dick in his wet, warm, eager mouth.

Slowly, he pushed his mouth down as far as he could go on Christian's cock, over doing it and having to pull away almost completely as he gagged.

"Nice try," Christian laughed, grabbing Taylor's jaw and redirecting him back to sucking his head to finish him off, "I'm close. Can I cum in your mouth?"

Taylor looked up mid-suck and shook his head which was disappointing but fine; Christian understood how weird this all must feel for Taylor. It was all about confidence building and baby steps. The fact that the man had Christian's dick in his mouth was a massive step. If he wasn't ready to swallow, that was more than okay to Christian.

"That's okay," Christian nodded, jumping when he felt Taylor's teeth lightly grazing the underside of his cock. The glint in his eye when he heard Christian's gasp was erotic as hell and Christian couldn't help taking hold of Taylor's head and begin to fuck his mouth. He was wary to keep from hitting his gag reflex but Christian was also taking no prisoners as he grunted and moaned, seeing Taylor playing with his own dick too.

With a second to spare, he pulled out and gasped, covering the head of his cock with his hand to stop him ejaculating on Taylor's face or chest.

"Fuck," Christian panted as his body continued to shudder and his dick jerk relentlessly, "Fuck."

"Was that okay?" Taylor asked as he wiped his lips, looking up at Christian, "Did I do okay?"

"You followed your orders perfectly, Marine...but you started to play with yourself. Do you think you deserve a reward?" Christian asked, pulling up his boxers but kicking off his trousers.

"Please," Taylor said sharply, letting go of his dick and sitting back on his hands, "Please let me cum. I want to cum."

"Where do you want to cum?" Christian asked and saw Taylor blush, "Don't get shy now. Where? I can take you into my mouth if you'd like?"

"Your abs," he admitted, running a finger along them, "I don't know why; I've never looked at a man's body and wanted to cum on it. But yours. Fuck. Yes. There's a first for everything, right?"

Christian stared at Taylor curiously when he said that. He was right, of course he was. But Christian hadn't realised that this was all new to himself too. He'd made out with a man, in public, with no worry or concern about what people saw him. He had let himself be picked up by Taylor, longed for him to kiss Christian again. Instead of going straight to the playroom, they'd been too eager and found the sofa and Taylor had sucked Christian off in an area where Christian usually never indulged in sexual activity with his submissives.

These were all firsts for Christian on their own merit, let alone with a man. Christian had been with men in the past but never in this setting, never with someone he actually felt he had an honest connection with, both physical and emotionally.

He thought about it for a moment, looking down at Taylor who handed Christian his discarded shirt to wipe up his hands. He'd put so much trust into Christian just now, more than he had the whole time he'd been in Christian's life. He'd admitted that he was nervous, that he'd never had anal sex as a top or as a bottom and that he didn't think he was even any good at vaginal sex. That was a whole lot of personal information for a man who wouldn't even tell Christian mundane things about his daughter.

"Lets go to my room," Christian mumbled, lifting Taylor up by his chin, "Since you've been a good boy overall. I think you deserve a treat."

"A treat?" Taylor frowned, lacing his fingers into Christian's hand as he pulled the man towards he bedroom door.

"Lets rectify your lack of sex."


	20. Chapter 20

**WARNING; Rated M for future m/m and adult themes, this is not going to be a CG/Ana fic. It will be a CG/Taylor**

 **Chapter; 20.**

Jason didn't know what it was about Christian Grey that made him feel so relaxed with himself. Imagining having sex with another man would have previously made Jason feel disgusted with himself as though he were some sort of pervert for finding another man attractive. In the past, particularly when he was at War, he'd let his mind wander after months of living with his boys in the desert. Even when all he fantasised about was kissing the ridiculously handsome doctor in camp, Jason felt ashamed and honestly evil; he didn't like how wrong he'd felt in the past.

But being with Christian right now made Jason feel oddly liberated. He was coy but that was due to his experiences with sex in the past with his ex-wife. It wasn't her fault that she'd been dissatisfied with their sex life, far from it. Jason had been just as unimpressed with it; they'd settled into a routine of doggy style or reverse cow-girl, and that was the only way Jason could cum if he were sober which couldn't have been fun for a woman like his ex who was experimental and incredibly liberal. She'd introduced toys to their usual routine to spice things up which had been an interesting development. Jason had taken control of a paddle and used cuffs and blindfolds on his ex like she'd asked but they'd done nothing to excite him. It wasn't until she'd slapped his ass and took command of him that he'd discovered he was very much masochistic. Though he'd been too uptight and worried to vocalise that discovery. Maybe if he had done, they'd still be together? But communicating was a difficult task for a man who'd been raised and moulded to be silent.

He'd admitted to Christian that he didn't feel he was any good at sex which was the most communicating he'd done in a lifetime. And instead of laughing at Jason like he'd feared Christian would do, Christian had told him he was an idiot and commanded that he continue sucking Christian off. And wasn't that something? Being ordered like that had been a serious turn on for Jason and he couldn't help pump his hand over his own dick. When Christian caught him touching himself, he'd felt a rush of lustful excitement; what would his punishment be for touching himself without Christian's permission? The man had an entire room of tools and sexual weaponry which Jason desperately wanted Christian to use on him. Maybe not right now because Jason was desperate to cum, but in the future.

"Lets rectify your lack of sex," Christian said, linking his fingers around Jason's and giving his hand a manful squeeze. Jason was instantly nervous and felt his muscles completely clench up. He'd never experimented anally on himself. Even with his ex, he'd accidently went into the wrong hole one drunken night and she'd shoved him away and yelled at him for hurting her. That experience had really shaped his ideas of what anal sex was; painful, unattractive and awkward.

"I'm not sure I ca-" Grey silenced Jason with a stealing kiss, his hand jerking Jason's exposed dick hard and quickly, causing Jason to gasp out with pleasure and desperate need; he was dying to cum.

"Don't worry," Christian promised, letting go of Jason's dick when his thighs began shaking and his poor cock pulsed in unrelieved agony, "There's no rush for you."

Jason moaned and bit his lip, unable to keep his hand from going to his dick to fix the infuriatingly painful purgatory he was in. It was a stupid idea because Christian grabbed his hand and pulled them above Jason's head, pushing him against the wall beside Christian's bedroom.

"Did I say you could touch yourself?" Christian growled, kicking Jason's legs apart.

"I really need to cum," Jason whined in a voice which sounded so alien to his own ears. He could hear the neediness, the arousal and the pain at not being allowed to cum when he was so fucking close. Hid poor cock was crimson and pulsing before him.

Still, Christian did nothing but remove the remainder of Jason's clothes from his body, sitting on his knees right in front of his dick so that he could slowly remove Jason's shoes. He ignored Jason's whines and begging, going infuriatingly slowly as he pulled the laces of his left shoe and then slipped them off before going to his right and making a scene about the double knot.

"You're beautiful, Taylor," Christian complimented, "Do you know that?"

"You're blind; I'm old and decrepit compared to you," Jason replied honestly; Christian looked a billion dollars, Jason looked like a quarter found in the drain of the city.

"Well I think you're beautiful, Taylor," Christian continued, standing slowly and walking through to his bedroom, kicking off his own shoes and then stepping out of his trousers and boxer shorts, his shirt and jacket landing on a heap on the floor. Jason stared at it for a moment; the man's clothes cost more than the average American salary so it was strange to see him chucking them on the floor. But Jason soon realised that it was because he was in a hurry to get naked and on his bed.

"Yeah, you look beautiful to me," Christian echoed, leaning over to a bedside cabinet and pulling out a bottle of lotion. He put some on his hand and spread it over his hardening dick. Apparently Grey had some super human recovery time because he was nearly ready to go for a second time and was torturing Jason by jacking off in front of him, despite not letting Jason do the same, "Come over here."

Jason gulped and walked over to the bed, crawling up the large mattress on his knees until he was in front of Christian, watching him work his massive, slick dick. That was going to hurt, Jason thought with a nervousness which had him clenching up again. How the hell was he going to be able to take that? He'd freaked out when Grey had slipped a sudden pinky up there.

"Should I use lube too?" Jason asked, grabbing the bottle.

"Please; your ass doesn't lubricate itself like a vagina does," Christian laughed, "Use as much as you need and then I'll use the rest on my ass."

"Your ass?" Jason frowned, looking down at Christian curiously, "Aren't you going to fuck me?"

"No," Christian laughed, "At least not without training; I'm a bit of a handful. Maybe next time. I have a buttplug I can make you wear in the office tomorrow."

Next time, Jason was glad to hear that Christian was already thinking about a next time because so was he. He was letting his imagination run wild unashamedly. He wanted Christian in the Playroom, he wanted him on the sofa, he wanted him back in that alley where they could have been caught at any second, he wanted him in the back seats of the damn Audi.

"Okay," Jason nodded eagerly, pouring a generous amount of lube in his hand and spreading it over his cock like Christian asked of him. He watched as Christian mimicked him and applied it in and around his asshole, stroking his dick at the sight until Christian noticed he was playing with himself and slapped his hand firmly.

"Not yet," Christian growled, leaning up and grabbing Jason by his neck, pulling him down upon his body. He attacked Jason's mouth with a dominating kiss, grabbing Jason by the ass and pushing him down against Christian's hips.

Jason groaned with excitement, biting Christian's lip in desperation, "Please," he begged, feeling Christian's hand wrap around his dick and guide him to Christian's back entrance. Slowly, so as to give him time to adjust, Jason pushed forward, his eyes zoned in on Christian's face so that he could read the man's reaction.

"Don't worry; I've experimented with ass play before. I just need to adjust a little. It's been a while," Christian explained, kissing Jason slowly to reassure him that he was okay.

Jason nodded, kissing back as he focused on Christian's body language, trying his best not to touch the man's scars with his hands. Instead he buried them under the pillow to keep temptation at bay, holding his weight on his fore arms.

Christian groaned and rolled his hips upward, Jason taking that as his cue to begin to move himself. It shocked Jason how comfortable it felt being in missionary position after years of fucking from behind, particularly sober. The level of intimacy he experienced being able to see Christian's expressions with every pump of his hips was a massive turn on and it was so fucking hard not to blow his load early after what felt like hours of teasing.

He leant down and bit Christian's shoulder to supress a loud groan, working his hips faster and more fluidly. Christian, in return, grabbed hold of Jason's ass and pulled him in deeper, taking control even on his back. It made Jason smirk; even with Jason on top, Christian was absolutely dominating him.

"Wipe that smirk off your face, Mr Taylor," Christian growled, spanking Jason's ass so hard that he gasped in shock of the sharp pain.

"Yes Chrissy," Jason cooed, bracing himself for a second spank, then a third when he let out a low moan.

"Do you like a spanking, Mr Taylor?" Christian asked, spanking him for a fourth time, "I think you do. I think you want me to put you in your place. Maybe I should take you to the playroom?"

"Yes Sir," Jason nodded eagerly because fuck it; he'd admitted so much to Christian already, why not go for broke and let the man know that the idea of being spanked in the playroom made him harder than he'd ever thought he could possibly be. He bit back down on Christian's shoulder, thrusting harder and hard, the headboard banging against the wall as he did so.

Christian's eyelids became heavy, his lips partially open in an 'oh' position. Jason felt the man's hand snake between their bodies to grab his dick, jerking his slick cock in time with Jason's rhythm.

"That's it, Taylor," Christian growled, "I need you to go faster."

"Yes, Sir," Jason panted and then admitted, "I'm so close, Sir."

"You can't cum yet," Christian informed him, "I need to catch up."

"Hurry, Sir," Jason whined again before gasping in shock when he felt Christian insert a pinky into his own ass, "F-u-uck," he groaned, "Sir, I can't wait any more. Please, can I cum? Please."

He heard Christian laughing, humiliating him and making him flustered as hell all in one. "Cum in ten seconds, Taylor."

"No," Jason groaned, shaking in agony as he faced the prospect of a further delay, particularly now that Christian was doing something magical to his ass that he'd never experienced. His muscles ached badly from holding back, gritting his teeth to hold back the growl in the back of his throat.

"Ten, nine, eight, seven," Christian counted, despite Jason's protests. He worked his own dick hard, panting heavily as he continued his count down, "Six, five, four, three," he moaned, rolling his hips to meet Jason's, "Two, Go. Now."

Jason saw stars as he did as commanded and came for Christian Grey. His body was screaming in relief as he experienced some unseen weight being lifted from somewhere above him. His mind was completely blown open and he felt colours and light blitzing the cloak of darkness he usually kept over his perverted fantasies and shameful feelings of lust. For the first time in his life, Jason completely let himself go on Christian's command and lost himself in the sudden overpowering happiness flooding through his blood and pumping through his veins. Pure ecstasy washed over his synapses like a tsunami, leaving him exhausted and shaking.

He didn't know when he returned to Earth from whatever planet he'd been blown away to, but when he finally came to he was lying in Christian's arms, the man holding him tightly to his own body and caressing his back with a tenderness which was polar opposite to the spanking he'd dished out. As though he sensed how monumental the moment was for Jason, Christian remained silent and let him recover in his arms, holding him almost protectively.

"Shit," was the first thing Jason was able to communicate, pulling out of Christian and resting his weight back on his arms as he looked down into Christian's beautiful eyes.

"I hope it wasn't," Christian laughed, leaning up to kiss Jason softly, "Where did you disappear to just now?"

"I…I don't know," Jason laughed too, rolling off of the man's flawless body and flopping in a sweaty, sticky heap beside him. He was confused as to why there was seamen on his chest and abs then remembered Christian had climaxed too between both of their bodies.

"You just seemed to vanish a little there, Taylor," Christian pressed, "Like you weren't on this planet when you came."

"Albuquerque," Jason finally said.

Christian burst out laughing at that, looking at Jason in absolute amusement, "Albuquerque? I was thinking maybe Mars or something out of this world and metaphorical, but Albuquerque? Hardly a romantic location."

"Albuquerque has it's perks," Jason replied, unable to stop himself from smirking even though he knew how much Christian hated his lopsided expression, "Besides, my head's all mushed up. I mean, geez."

"It's good to know that the effect I have on you is Albuquerque level," Christian chuckled as he sat up, "Maybe next time I'll get NYC or Philadelphia from you?"

"What's wrong with Wichita or Des Moines?" Jason replied as he watched Christian heading to the bathroom, "They're good, sturdy cities."

"With a combined population of five hundred thousand people," Christian replied from the other room, turning on the shower before appearing again, "I'm going to shower before bed. Want to join me?"

"Yeah," Jason nodded, "Gimme a minute to secure the house and I'll be right with you."

"Don't linger in Albuquerque too long," Christian called, turning on the bathroom's music speaker.


	21. Chapter 21

**WARNING; Rated M for future m/m and adult themes, this is not going to be a CG/Ana fic. It will be a CG/Taylor**

 **Chapter; 21.**

Christian woke to the sound of heels on his living room floor.

He opened a sleepy eye and looked down to see Taylor curled up under his arm and sleeping soundly. As he slept, the muscles of his face were relaxed and completely softened his usual tough guy expression. It was nice to see the man looking so at peace for once; Christian watching him a little longer before realising what had woken him up in the first place; heels on the wooden flooring of his living room.

"Christian?"

"Shit," Christian growled, nudging Taylor, "That's my mom!"

"Huh?" Taylor yawned, sitting up too before his murky coloured eyes went wide when Christian physically shoved him out of the bed. His bare ass hit the floor clumsily, "Hey!"

"Hide!" Christian ordered in a low hiss, Taylor standing up and making a dash for the bathroom. He'd just managed to hide behind the door when mom knocked.

"Christian, are you not up yet?" she called sounding worried.

"Give me a minute, mom!" Christian called, grabbing Taylor's discarded briefs and pulling them on since they were closest to him. He scooped up their remaining clothes and threw them into the bathroom with Taylor before grabbing his dressing gown. One look in the mirror was enough for Christian to realise how unsubtle this all was. Why, oh why were his parents as attentive and loving as they were?

"What's wrong, mom?" Christian called as he tried to smooth down his bedhead.

"You've not been returning my texts," Mom called, "It's been a week. I've been worried you're ill. I'm shocked you're not up yet, Christian. It's seven thirty; usually you're just home from jogging."

"I've not been jogging," Christian called, giving up on his hair and walking to the door and opening it, "Hey mom, sorry, I was just heading for a shower."

Mom's nose wrinkled when she saw him which was when Christian really appreciated how bad he must look. She peered over his shoulder and frowned; the bed was in complete disarray and it was obvious that both sets of pillows had been used through the night. Christian's eyes landed on the bottle of lube on the bedside cabinet, lid off, beside two mugs of now cold hot chocolate.

"Christian, are you, uh, alone?" mom asked with a blush, taking a step back from his door and making a move to the kitchen. Christian followed, being sure to close the bedroom door behind him.

"Of course, mom," Christian lied, waving away her embarrassing question. What was it about mom's always needing to know every fine detail? Growing up, Grace had smothered Elliot, Christian and Mia with her questions, wanting to know they were safe by interrogating them in the way only mothers could.

"I'm just asking, Christian," Mom replied, "No need to snap," she cooed as she turned on the coffee machine, "I was just coming round with your invite to the Coping Together gala."

Christian sighed and sat at the breakfast bar as his mother made them both coffees, glad she hadn't noticed the lack of Gail in the apartment and commented on the two lots of takeaway boxes, the two mugs and the two sets of cutlery in the sink needing washed. It was too early in the morning to answer questions which required Christian to tell his mother little lies.

"What is the theme this year?" Christian asked, squeezing the bridge of his nose. He hated these events with a passion. Socialising with people he didn't particularly care for really irritated him and he'd no time for feigning interests and forcing small talk with self-entitled socialites and people who'd made careers in capitalism with no form of philanthropy to balance out the give and take. He knew he'd have to attend, however, as one year he'd sent his parents a cheque and Carrick had driven to his old apartment, forced him into a suit and dragged him to the party pleating that his mother was devastated that he hadn't come to show her support.

The reality was that Christian had wanted to spend the night with a particularly feisty submissive who was in town for business the weekend of his parents' stupid charity auction and had thought a healthy donation would have excused his lack of presence. Obviously he'd been very wrong.

"Santa Monica Pier," Mom said with a smile. Christian stared at her in shock, blinking as he tried not to laugh; what was it about everyone naming obscure places in America today? First Taylor saying he was in Albuquerque rather than cloud nine post life shattering orgasm and now mom deciding to make the theme to her charity event a specific pier? At least Christian didn't need to dress up for his one. A pair of shorts and a hat and he'd be sorted until it was time to go home.

Thinking of Taylor and his Albuquerque comment made Christian smile to himself. Something had happened between them last night; a whole lot of different firsts. Waking up beside Taylor had been incredibly unusual for Christian. No one, not even his submissives, shared a bed with him. But the man had showered with Christian then fetched them both hot chocolates to drink whilst they watched sport on the bedroom television. Taylor had been the first to fall asleep and then Christian had joined him, wrapping an arm over Taylor. He'd felt Taylor pull him in tighter at some point through the night which had meant Christian had to hook a leg over Taylor's hip to get comfortable again but he couldn't deny how good it had felt to be wanted like that.

"Given how lovely the weather's supposed to be this summer, we thought we'd recreate the Santa Monica Pier. Carrick has organised for a miniature rollercoaster and Ferris wheel to be erected. There will be burger stalls, fairground rides. We will, of course, have the annual auction so if you have something to donate to the occasion then please do so," Mom explained, smiling at him as she added milk to their coffees, "Your ticket will, of course, be a plus one."

"I'll maybe bring a work friend," Christian said, already sensing the argument he'd have with Taylor about going to such a highly popular event. He needed to go; his mother would never forgive him if he didn't go, but he also knew Taylor wouldn't want him there because of how high profiled the guests all were. It was a security nightmare, even with all of mom and Carrick's security detail and rent-a-cops mulling around.

"That Mr Taylor fellow?" Mom asked curiously, studying him closely.

"Maybe," Christian shrugged, "I might bring Andrea or Roz though."

"Oh, who's Andrea?" Mom piped up, smiling knowingly, "Is she pretty?"

"Moooom," Christian laughed, shaking his head, "She's one of my clerical assistants."

"That doesn't matter," Mom replied with a laugh, "I want to be around for at least one of my baby boys getting married and your brother seems determined to keep up this playboy lifestyle he seems to manage to fund on his salary. You wouldn't believe what I walked into when I dropped his invitation off last night; I'm positive he had two women in his home."

"Moooom," Christian repeated with a roll of his eyes before smiling at her fondly, "I'll bring someone but I might just ask Taylor. It would be good for him to do something fun. I don't think he has a lot of fun."

"He did come across as very…bootlaced. However, he was talkative when pushed," Mom nodded, finishing her coffee, "I brought you lunch for today; it's in your fridge."

"Thanks, mom," Christian sighed and stood, "Lentil soup?"

"With bacon and a crispy breadroll. Red velvet cake for dessert," mom winked knowingly, "Don't work too hard, baby."

"I'll try," Christian assured her as he walked her to the door, "Mom, I'm going to be changing the security number for the elevator and entrance. I don't want to alert you, it's just there's been a few breaking and entries in the area. I've been advised by the building security to keep the code on a need to know basis." He hated lying to his mom but it was better to do so than worry her with the truth; someone was threatening his life on a near weekly basis.

"Oh," mom frowned worriedly, "Do you think you need to get a dog?"

A dog seemed to be mom's answer to everything. Christian remembered vaguely when he was younger, just before Michael joined their family as Carrick's CPO, that mom had borrowed a Rottweiler from some rapper she'd met through her work on the Children's Ward. Watching dainty Grace Trevelyan-Grey be dragged up the family drive by this massive protection dog still stuck out in Christian's early memories. Thankfully Betsy, the Rottweiler, lived out the rest of her years in the comfort of Grey mansion without needing to bark at a soul. Or course Mom's first reaction now to a threat against her son's property was to get another dog. It wouldn't surprise Christian if he'd come home one day to three Pitbulls and a Doberman in his office.

"No, mom, I just need to start changing the security numbers," Christian said firmly, "No dogs. I don't care how cute you think it would be. I don't need any more protection."

"If you're sure, Christian," mom sighed before kissing his cheek, "I'll see you soon. Start texting your mother back," she added firmly, "I love you."

"Love you too," Christian called, waving her away. When the elevator doors closed, he breathed a sigh of relief and then laughed at himself, "It's safe to come out, Taylor."

He walked back to the kitchen and explored the new contents of the fridge, shocked to find two paper lunch bags. One clearly said 'Christian' but the other read 'Taylor', which freaked Christian out a little. How did she know he'd be with Taylor at lunch time? Did she know he was his bodyguard? Did she know he was currently living here?

No, it must be because she remembered that Taylor's cover story was that he was Christian's new PA through the made up veteran scheme, right?

Damn that woman was smart, Christian thought with a chuckle, closing the fridge and turning round to find Taylor stood watching him, wearing Christian's own boxer briefs. They were far too small for Taylor, making his muscular thighs bulge out and cupping his ass wonderfully.

"You stole my briefs," Taylor complained, tugging at the boxers.

"I rather like you in those," Christian commented, "Anyway; go run the shower. I have a meeting at eight thirty that I can't miss."

"Yes, Sir," Taylor cooed and disappeared from sight. Christian grinned to himself and followed the muscular man back into the en suite, trying to remember the last time he'd been so fascinated by another person before.


	22. Chapter 22

**WARNING; Rated M for future m/m and adult themes, this is not going to be a CG/Ana fic. It will be a CG/Taylor**

 **Chapter; 22.**

Jason wasn't allowing himself to think about anything but the road in front of him as he drove Christian Grey to GEH this morning. If he allowed himself to think about anything other than work then his mind went straight back to the night before. To Christian underneath him, groaning in pleasure as Jason thrust into his ass whilst he jerked his dick. To Christian kissing him in an all-consuming and dominating manner which made Jason feel like he was safe to explore a part of his mind that he desperately kept locked up from the world. He'd had sex with a man and didn't hate himself as much as he assumed he would considering how evil and perverted he'd felt just having vivid homosexual thoughts and dreams.

"Yes, Ros," Christian mumbled in the back of the Q7, meeting Jason's eye in the rearview mirror, "I'll be there in ten minutes. I'm well revised on what this meeting is about."

Jason could never get sick of looking into those eyes, he realised as he struggled to pull away and refocus on the road and getting Christian to work safely. They were just so unique and like nothing Jason had ever witnessed before; an icy steel colour flecked with the finest Sterling silver and rimmed with a darker slate shade. In different lighting they were blue but Jason knew, having been up close and personal with him that they were indeed hauntingly grey.

He pulled up outside the building and climbed out of the driver's side, pocketing his mobile phone and grabbing his leather coat. He walked round to let Christian out once he'd scanned the sidewalk and surrounding buildings then handed the keys to the valet to park the car in the company's secure lot underground.

Getting Christian into GEH quickly was priority. The most dangerous moment in their day-to-day lives was the period between leaving the car and entering the building. Every morning, Jason 'mixed it up'. He'd tell the Valet they would be arriving outside the building in a specific direction decided at random by himself, or they would enter the underground entrance themselves on occasion. Either way, no single day was the same. Christian had once asked why Jason insisted in the erratic arrivals. Jason had calmly pointed out all the glass windows overlooking them which he would use himself if he was required to 'delete' someone. Christian had never questioned his mannerisms again. Departing from GEH was just as sporadic.

"Good morning, Mr Grey," the valet greeted as they entered the building and bypassed the queues getting through the new security systems. Jason walked side by side with Christian, focused on everyone and everything in their immediate surroundings. These security checks were a much needed necessity and so Jason took great joy in the disapproving glares that staff sent him as they stepped through metal detectors.

"This meeting is about branching into Publishing, Taylor," Christian said as they entered the elevator together and Christian pressed in his code to go directly to his office floor. Jason suddenly felt an urge to grab Christian and let him know that all morning he'd been unable to stop thinking about the night before and how amazing and liberated he'd felt for the first time in his entire life.

As though reading his mind, Christian looked up at Jason and grinned, "If this meeting wasn't so important, I'd have stopped this elevator now and we could have had a repeat of last night."

Jason tried to act as though Christian's words hadn't given him a hard on then and there but he couldn't hide his smirk and he had to laugh, "That's some thought."

"I hope it wont be too distracting for you," Christian said firmly, "Work is work for me, Taylor. I want to keep things as professional as possible around my staff."

"I couldn't agree more," Jason said firmly, placing his hands in his pockets and rolling his weight on his feet.

"But I want us to get home sharp tonight," Christian added, "And I want to take you into the playroom."

"I couldn't agree more," Jason repeated with a smirk, exiting the elevator and following Christian's fine ass to his office, grunting at the 'good mornings' he received.

Watching Christian during the meeting with Ros, Jack Hyde and a selection of SIP's finest editors was incredibly boring. Jason wasn't a leisure reader and so wasn't excited or impressed by each editor mentioning which books they had worked on or who they networked with. Big deal; Jason had once shook the former President's hand, that was surely a better achievement? Perhaps it was all to do with context and interest; these book lovers would probably squeal at the prospect of re-breathing the air expelled from J.K Rowling's lungs.

Christian and Ros ate it up completely however and Jason could see the amount of notes Christian was taking; names to look up and research in his downtime. Christian was a good boss like that, Jason had come to realise. He felt it was important to learn everything he could about anything he put his name to which was a quality that Jason had a lot of admiration for. Christian Grey was very much a boss who would not expect an employee to do something he wouldn't do himself.

"How has the company been since Jerry Roach left?" Christian had asked and looked directly at Jack Hyde.

The six foot tall suited hippy ran his hand through his floppy of blonde hair and studied Christian intently, "I think I speak for everyone at SIP when I say that Jerry Roach was old school with a…dated approach. We're all very happy to see SIP move forward and progress with the times."

"Good answer," Christian noted with a smirk. Jason had to agree, from his perch by the door overlooking the board table. Jerry Roach may have been old school but that was no excuse for his derogative language and attitude towards women. Grey had bout him out with merely one million dollars; Jason had Sawyer give him a taste of his own medicine.

"It's a good answer but it's also the truth," Jack insisted, waving a hand around the table at his fellow SIP editors. In Jerry Roach's absence, Jack had become the key communicator between GEH and SIP and so understood the importance of agreeing with Christian, "We've been pushing Jerry to invest in different media avenues; youtube for example."

"YouTube?" Ros echoed, arching a puzzled eyebrow at Jack and turning to look at Christian who looked just as much perplexed.

"How is what you currently do at SIP applicable to YouTube?" Christian asked Jack directly, "I was under the impression that YouTube was for watching cats."

"The industry is changing drastically," Jack explained, sitting forward on his elbows coolly, "The increase of self-publishers, the shift to eBooks from traditional printed books…all of this is having a dramatic impact on publishing as a whole and SIP needs to be seen to adapt and one of the avenues that our researchers looked into was YouTube; get our content and message online for readily available consumption."

"You want to put Romance novels on YouTube?" Ros asked cynically.

"Of course not," Jack scoffed, waving her negativity away like an annoying fly as he looked back at Christian who was listening to Jack, deep in thought, "We want to get the authors online; interviews, clips from book signings, teaser chapters…most of our writers already have large fan bases so why not introduce content which showcases the authors and perhaps encourages other viewers to show an interest in their work?"

"And you think YouTube is the best format for this?" Christian pressed, writing in his note pad, "Of all the formats out there; why YouTube?"

"Simplicity of platform and user popularity," one of the other Editors chimed in, taking Christian's grey stare off of Jack Hyde for a moment, "The truth is, Sir, we'd approached Jerry multiple times with different strategies. YouTube was just one of a million examples we offered him and had shot down. It's probably not the best method of branching out; apps like Goodread are maybe something to look into, or maybe a more interactive web design is all that's needed. I think what Jack's offering you is evidence that we're keen to progress as a company with GEH's help."

Christian nodded slowly. Ros rolled her eyes.

It was easy for Jason to see that Christian liked a project. SIP was a profitable investment but there were definitely challenges to overcome and restructures needed before Christian could use its media span to better serve GEH's growth. It wasn't a dumb investment but it wasn't a safe one either and Ros seemed to prefer taking the safer options in comparison to her CEO.

"I think it's safe to say we're all on the same wave length," Christian said finally, looking directly at Jack Hyde once more, "I'm glad to see you're team are eager and full of ideas."

"That we are," Jack nodded and flashed Christian with a ruggedly charming smile which made Jason suddenly feel jealous. Who the Hell did Jack think he was smiling at Christian like that?

"And you're coping in Jerry's absence better than I think Ros believed possible," Christian chuckled.

Ros didn't chuckle and instead stared directly at Jack, "I didn't think you'd survive five minutes without Jerry Roach," she hissed in a manner which made Jason have to cover his smug smirk; you tell that hippy, he thought.

"I'll have Andrea schedule our next meeting at SIP Head Quarters," Christian said, closing his note book, "I'm keen on getting the ball rolling with our Finance team, introduce them to you and organise a budget and target figures for the coming year."

The SIP lot stood and shook both Christian and Ros's hands, all big smiles and excitements. One by one they exited the board room until it was just Jack left.

"Thank you again, Mr Grey, for this opportunity to merge SIP with GEH," Jack said diplomatically, holding Christian's hand a little too longer. Jason had no business getting annoyed at their prolonged contact, but he was.

"Until the next meeting," Christian smiled politely, pocketing his hands into his trouser pocket and escorting Jack out, "Ros, Taylor and I have another meeting scheduled. Will you see our guests out?"

"With pleasure," Ros mumbled.

Jason waved before following Christian as he retired to the familiarity of his office, sinking into his chair behind his desk. He buzzed the intercom for someone to fetch them both a coffee before slumping back and looking over his notes, "Fucking hell, I've got a lot to read up on. Do you know any of these authors?"

"Not a reader," Jason shrugged, plonking his ass on the sofa, beside his little pile of paperwork. He'd been sent a few forgery documents from another client which he was looking over to fill in his time waiting for a threat on Christian's life. It filled the time and he was getting a pretty buck for his input which was not too shabby.

"Not at all?" Christian pressed, running his hand through his copper tussles.

"Last book I read was The Things They Carried by Tim O'Brien," Jason shrugged, "I read it flying long haul."

"You read a whole book while flying?" Christian snorted in disbelief.

"Hate flying," Jason admitted with another shrug before quickly adding, "Are you a reader?"

"Yeah, I suppose I am," Christian said with a nod, "I prefer factual non-fiction books though. I enjoy autobiographies. I read A Child Called It after Mia recommended it. Hard, resonating read."

"I read a bit of that," Jason recalled, imaging himself in the family bathroom, using Sophie's bathwater to soak in whilst reading one of his Ex-wife's many novels. "I couldn't read much of it; it was too harrowing, especially when I have Sophie."

Christian nodded and stretched his back, "So you're not a good flyer?"

Jason grimaced, Andrea choosing that moment to walk in with coffee and Christian's mail. She left both on his desk but the moment she left, Jason stood and collected the mail, required to go through it to ensure it was safe for Christian to handle, "I don't like it," he mumbled, pulling his Ka-bar knife from his sleeve pocket and carefully cutting the side of each envelope, "But I do it."

"Why?" Christian pressed, leaning forward and resting his head on his crossed arms as he watched Jason open and check each letter, "Bad experience?"

Jason didn't respond and hoped Christian would understand that he was not comfortable discussing the reasons behind why he didn't particularly enjoy being in the air. Thankfully, his silence was heard and Christian changed his line of questioning, "Anything good?"

"Nothing that interests me," Jason admitted, shifting through the endless mountain of paperwork addressed to Christian. It was truly ridiculous just how much trash the CEO received. Surely it made more sense to have specific departments which accepted CV's? But then Christian was a control freak, Jason remembered. He probably read every single CV they received and documented the impressive ones or the ones which stood out to himself.

He was nearly though the pile when he paused. The letter in his hand struck him has odd, heavier than the rest despite the overall thinness of the envelope. In his gut, Jason knew instantly that this was not a friendly letter, studying the handwriting on the envelope.

His silence and hesitation was picked up by Christian. The man's body language changed and he sat up pole straight, complexion pale and eyes wide in fright, "Is that from…?"

"I think so," Jason nodded, pulling a pair of latex gloves from his combat pockets and snapping them on, "Don't panic," he instructed, carefully using his knife to delicately rip the top of the envelope as he'd done to the previous.

"Shit," Christian huffed, wrapping his arms around his chest now as he met Jason's eyes, "What does it say?"

Jason looked back to the letter and carefully slid the contents out. Like the previous letters it was constructed using newspaper clippings on bog standard printer paper, the letter clippings unrelated to each other and entirely random in appearance.

"What does it say?" Christian pressed, "Taylor?"

"' _I am watching you._ '" Jason read aloud, "It's…shorter than the others."

"What do you think that means?" Christian worried and then just cursed loudly, "Fucking hell."


	23. Chapter 23

**WARNING; Rated M for future m/m and adult themes, this is not going to be a CG/Ana fic. It will be a CG/Taylor**

 **Chapter; 23.**

Jason wasn't offended when Christian hid himself away in his office, his sanctuary, in Escala. Elena called him, Jason having picked up the phone for Christian under his instruction, and Jason was under the assumption that they both spoke for over an hour. He finished looking over the forgery notes, sat at the kitchen breakfast bar with his magnifying glass, enjoying the silence of the modern apartment.

The police took this note just like they'd taken the last one, the statements near exactly the same as the previous ones that had been given. Christian was just going through the phases, Jason realised. He was frightened and shaken up and had said nothing as Jason had driven them both straight back to Escala. The minute they stepped foot inside the apartment, Christian excused himself to the bathroom and then nearly barricaded himself into his office.

So much for the playroom, a selfish part of Jason thought. The unselfish part decided to cook them both some dinner; spaghetti Bolognese. Sophie liked his Spag-bol, especially when he sprinkled mozzarella cheese on the top and baked hers for a minute in the oven. There was no denying that that little girl wasn't his with an appetite like she had. Sadly, however, Christian announced through the door that he was not hungry. Jason had no other option but to eat both portions and wash them down with a soda before going back to looking at his paperwork.

It was going on nine o'clock at night when Jason realised that he'd not seen Christian for nearly five hours since they left GEH early that evening. He sighed and walked over to the man's heavy office door and knocked gently.

"Christian?" he called after nearly two minutes stood outside the door with no answer, "Christian?"

He opened the door slowly, worried that Christian had topped himself or something horrific. When he found the businessman sleeping soundly on his table Jason felt relief wash over him. He slowly approached before gently stroking the back of Christian's neck, "Wake up, sleepy."

Slowly, and with minimal movement, Christian began to slowly wake up, his beautiful grey eyes catching Jason's. They looked tired Jason thought; every note that Christian received seemed to exhaust him emotionally as well as physically and mentally.

"Hey, Taylor," Christian yawned, sitting back in his computer chair before looking at his clock, "Is that really the time?"

"Yeah," Jason nodded, placing his hands on his hips as he looked down at Christian, "Come on, if you're going to sleep you should do it in your bed or you'll end up damaging your spine and neck."

"Suppose you're right," Christian mumbled and stood, stretching his legs after sitting for so long at his desk, "Will you join me?"

"What?" Jason frowned, staring at him as though he'd been misheard, "What did you ask?"

"I don't want to be alone tonight," Christian admitted, sitting on his desk now directly in front of Jason, "Nothing sexual just…I feel safer having you nearer."

"You're vulnerable," Jason pointed out, "It could be seen as me taking advantage of you if I were to join you in bed. No matter how you try and sell it. I'm not sure it's a good idea."

"You're the only person I've shared a bed with since I was a kid," Christian pointed out, "The only adult I've shared a bed with. You'd not be taking advantage of my vulnerability; you'd be respecting my decision."

"Still, I'm not comfortable with this," Jason insisted, shaking his head firmly. Christian might not think he was taking advantage of him but Jason sure as hell did and he was sure every other boy he worked with would think the exact thing. He'd already broke the number one business rule; he'd slept with the client. Playing big spoon little spoon wouldn't help matters. Besides, what was it they said about spooning leading to forking? Christian Grey was not in the right mindset to consent to sex right now; that, Jason was positive of. So why tempt them both?

"Please, Jason," Christian mumbled now, holding out his hand. Hearing Christian say his first name felt oddly wonderful. No one ever called him Jason, not outside his weird family unit. Certainly he'd never had a client call him anything but 'You', 'Ugly' or 'Taylor'. Hearing someone, particularly Christian Grey with the beautiful grey eyes and Adonis figure, calling him 'Jason' made him feel oddly emotional. A little like when that House Elf got the sock from Harry Potter. What was it's name? Damn, it had been a long time since Jason had watched Harry Potter as an inflight movie.

"Okay," Jason relinquished, taking Christian's hand and letting him be lead through to his bedroom. Jason had already put the apartment into lockdown like he did every evening, closing the bedroom curtains before Christian began to strip out of his suit of the day. Jason couldn't help himself watching the man strip. He was fascinated by how perfectly symmetrical Christian was from head to toe. It was actually unfair just how attractive he was in comparison to Jason's own war battered body.

"I think I'll get this suit washed," Christian decided, chucking his clothes over a nearby chair, "I've sweat through it today."

"Fair enough," Jason replied, watching as Christian climbed in under the sheets wearing his delicious white boxer briefs. Shit this was going to be hard, pun intended, to keep his hands off Christian. Slowly he kicked off his boots and then his black combat trousers, t-shirt following swiftly after. Unlike Christian, Jason folded his clothes with military precision and piled them on the floor beside his boots, mobile phone, guns and knife.

"Why do you wear briefs and not boxers?" Christian asked, looking over at Jason as he stood looking like an absolute hairy beast compared to Christian.

"More support," Jason shrugged, cupping himself, "Especially for sudden sprints. Suppose I'm just complacent with what I've discovered works for me."

"Well I think you suit them," Christian decided as Jason climbed under the sheets, "Thanks for this."

"If it makes you feel safer it's not a problem," Jason said firmly before jumping when Christian wrapped his arm over Jason's chest and pulled him in tight; making the Marine the little spoon and pressing his front to Jason's back.

"It does," Christian admitted, "I don't know why but when you're around me I feel…not invincible but certainly a lot more protected than I have ever been in my entire life. It's the most settled I think I've been in my entire life."

"I must be doing my job right," Jason yawned, holding Christian's hand and pulling him in tighter. He was shocked by how much he loved the sensation of Christian's warm body against his back, his dick pressed directly against his ass.

As Christian's breathing levelled out and became deeper as he fell to sleep, Jason could do nothing to stop his mind racing with images of the night before, leaving him hard and horny under Christian's strong arm. With a reluctant sigh, Jason surrendered himself to a sleepless, frustrating night.


	24. Chapter 24

**WARNING; Rated M for future m/m and adult themes, this is not going to be a CG/Ana fic. It will be a CG/Taylor**

 **Chapter; 24.**

Christian stretched out his legs and arched his back, pushing his front right up against Taylor's back as he yawned like a walrus. It was only 0546 in the morning, a Saturday at that. He supposed that he should really get himself back into early morning runs but with Taylor's 24/7 presence Christian didn't get the same thrilling sense of freedom and liberation that he used to experience when he put on his sneakers. He'd need to find a new hobby, one which wouldn't be interrupted by Taylor's all-consuming alpha male presence. Perhaps a hobby that could include them both?

He grinned at that, rewrapping his arm over Taylor's broad chest and pulling the man in tight against Christian once more. His fingers explored a few of the scars which marred Taylor's chest and caused gaps in his body hair. Like Christian, Taylor had a few lasting scores from past experiences better left in the past. Multiple knife wounds marked his upper torso, the most southern being one lonesome scratch above his hipbone. There were two 'nicks' which looked suspiciously like bullet wounds, one in his shoulder and the other on his side which Christian had noticed the previous night watching Taylor strip for bed. Like Christian, Taylor appeared to be self-conscious about his imperfections. They were perhaps more noticeable than the burn marks Christian bore, the knife wounds in particular scored his body like a tiger, but they were part of this man just as Christian's were part of him.

"You feel cold," Christian mumbled, placing his hand directly over Taylor's heart and holding him against his own body tighter.

" _Someone_ stole the duvet," Taylor grumbled tiredly.

Christian looked at Taylor then and realised that he had indeed stolen near enough all of the King sized bedsheets, leaving Taylor a mere scrap of material to cover his shins with.

"Sorry," Christian chuckled, pulling Taylor away from the edge of the bed and nearer himself and his heat, "You should have just said."

"You were sleepin'," Taylor yawned, rolling over to face Christian before cuddling his cold face in against the junction of Christian's neck. Christian wrapped them both up in the sheet, "Why are you awake?"

"I don't know," Christian admitted, "My body clock woke me. Might need a piss."

"Mmm," Taylor mumbled sleepily, "Go piss then come back and warm me up." He demanded, moving away to let Christian get up. The flooring was cold under foot as Christian padded his way into the ensuite and lifted the toilet lid, the motion sensor lights coming alive as he moved. Thank god Escala was fitted with dimmer sensors or Christian would have been pissing blind.

"Want to look at sports cars today?" Christian called through, shaking and flushing before heading to the sink.

"Why?" Taylor mumbled, clearing the sleep from his voice with a tired grumble.

"I dunno," Christian replied, "Something to do that's not work or death threat related?" he added, walking back to the bedroom and smiling at the sight of Taylor sprawled out on his stomach, leg hitched with the sheets barely covering his briefed ass.

"You want to get away for a bit?" Taylor clarified, looking over at Christian with a single murky blue coloured eye, squinting.

"Potentially," Christian agreed, giving his teeth a quick brush whilst he was up, "Another therapy day. Clear my head a little."

"…fine," Taylor yawned, stretching the muscles in his back and arms, "You want to leave now?"

"Not yet," Christian said, "I'm enjoying the view too much." He caught Taylor blushing just before he hid his face in Christian's pillows. He let out a low groan, stretching his long legs before settling again. Christian took this opportunity to rejoin him on the bed, pressing his lips lightly at the base of his neck before making his way down to his shoulder blades.

"You're blind if you think I'm a good view," Taylor mumbled again, turning his head now and watching Christian feather his back with kisses, focusing particularly on those tiger stripe scars.

"Beauty is in the eye of the beholder," Christian mumbled, running a hand over Taylor's ass before sliding it up to grab his balls firmly. Taylor parted his legs slightly to make it easier for Christian to cop a feel of him, "You enjoying that?"

"Mmmhmmm," Taylor nodded into the pillow, "Yes, _Sir_ ," he commented, Christian able to see that lazy half smirk making it's way up the side of his face.

Sir.

Christian chuckled and climbed back under the covers, pulling Taylor's back against his front once more. He buried his face into Taylor's shoulder, inhaling the man's scent. "Are you getting cheeky again, _Mr_ Taylor?"

"Oh, you did not just Mister me," Taylor growled, going to roll away. Christian stopped him from moving by taking a vice grip of his morning wood and jacking him off.

"Going somewhere?" Christian called playfully, lightly kissing and sucking Taylor's ear as he continued his hand movements, rubbing his thumb across Taylor's head.

"No, Sir," Taylor responded politely, shimmying his briefs down his thick beefy thighs before spreading his legs a little more to give Christian more access to jerk him off. Christian grinned, chewing Taylor's ear and grinding his own erection against the man's ass.

"Good," Christian mumbled, letting go of Taylor and sitting up, "Grab the lube."

"What?" Taylor frowned, watching as Christian walked towards his wardrobe where he found the spare key to his Playroom. Despite his confused expression, he looked handsome as hell with a growth of stubble on his jaw, his murky blue-green eyes narrowed in suspicion.

"Don't you want sex?" Christian called back, his hand snaking down to take a firm hold of his own erection through the material of his CK shorts. Taylor's eyes followed Christian's hand and he suddenly appeared hungry, staring on with a wanton expression.

"I…Are you sure?" Taylor coughed, looking back at Christian's face, "You had a rough night last night."

"I'm horny as fuck, Taylor, and I'd very much like a repeat of what happened between us last time," Christian insisted, pulling his boxers down and stroking his large cock, making sure to put on a show for Taylor to further convince him of his consent.

Taylor gulped and nodded, getting up to grab the lube as Christian headed to the Playroom to pick something up for Taylor. When he moved into Escala, he'd had the Playroom fitted and stocked before he'd even had the living room and main bathroom picked out. Christian's priorities were to his submissives, after all. Not having an adequate playroom really affected his access to the lifestyle he enjoyed.

He grabbed one of the many various buttplugs from the glass cabinet he displayed them within. He was tempted to bring the vibrating plug but it was perhaps too large for Taylor, particularly if the man flinched when Christian had attempted to insert a finger. No, for just now Christian would be kind to the man in his bed and start him off on the most basic of the basics. Then, after…Christian grinned at the thought of fucking Taylor himself, fucking that stupid smirk off the arrogant man's lips. Soon.

When he returned, Taylor was coming out of the bathroom naked, smelling of cologne and mint toothpaste. He spotted the plug and eyed Christian suspiciously, "That for me?"

"It'll blow your mind," Christian encouraged, grabbing the lube Taylor had sourced and coating the plug, "Trust me."

Taylor appeared suddenly reluctant and nervous, but he approached the bed like Christian indicated for him to do, bending over, "Just go slow?"

"Of course," Christian nodded, slapping his beefy ass playfully before gently playing with his ass with his finger. He carefully applied lube to Taylor's hole, slowly slipping a finger in to prepare him a little. Unlike last time, he didn't appear to flinch and panic, but he did tense naturally.

"It's alright," Christian mumbled, reaching round with his free hand and playing with the man's dick to bring him to ease, "Perfect," he encouraged, "I'm going to try the plug now."

"Okay," Taylor nodded, biting his lip as Christian removed his finger and picked up the toy, inserting the plug slowly and at Taylor's pace. The man hissed at the sensation of being invaded by a foreign item but he took it all without comment; soldiering through.

"How does that feel?" Christian asked, picking the lube up again and spreading it around his own ass now, "Because it looks amazing."

Taylor straightened up and turned to better face Christian, looking at his behind in the mirror, "It feels…good," he admitted, scratching the back of his head and consequently flexing his massive arms, "It feels dirty."

"Yeah?" Christian mumbled, rubbing his dick with his slick hand, "I can't wait to stretch you more until I can get my own dick in you."

Taylor groaned, focusing back on Christian, "Sir, can I touch your dick?"

"Yes," Christian replied, letting go so that Taylor could take over. Whilst he continued to pull at Christian's dick, Christian took the opportunity to lube up Taylor's. He groaned at the feel of Christian's hands on him, leaning against Christian's body for support.

"This all feels different with the plug in," Taylor admitted, squirming a bit. Christian laughed at his expressions, spanking Taylor's firm ass.

He growled in response and fell forward into Christian's arms, his lips attacking Christian's viciously. He tried to assert dominance over Christian, biting down and pulling on his lip, hands grabbing Christian's ass and lower back, grinding their hips together. He was desperate, he was animalistic, he was such a fucking turn on.

Christian turned in Taylor's arms, bending himself over the bed and taking a firm hold of his dick whilst Taylor buried his inside of Christian's ass.

"Fu-u-uck," Taylor groaned, Christian watching them both in the reflection of the mirror. Taylor's lips parted and his eyes rolled back as he grabbed Christian's hips and began to thrust.

Christian bit his lip as Taylor found a rhythm, mimicking it with his lube-slicken hand, "Faster," he moaned out loud, feeling Taylor's nail's dig into his waist as he rolled his hips deliciously, "That felt good."

"Yeah?" Taylor laughed, rolling his hips again and making Christian see stars, "Like that, Sir?"

"Ye-argh-yeah," Christian nodded, tugging himself faster, "Keep going, I'm close." Taylor grunted in response, his thrusts becoming more and more forceful, growling under his breath when Christian began to meet him. "That's it, argh, fuck," Christian gasped as he came in his hand and on the duvet.

Taylor came nearly straight after, moaning loudly and slumping over Christian's back with a ragged pant, "F-f-fucking plug, shit," he shuddered, his full weight on top of Christian now.

"Intense, huh?" Christian chuckled.

"…fuck me," Taylor choked, still shivering and panting.

"That's the plan," Christian laughed, "Are you going to get off me? I'm lying in my own cum."

"Yeah," Taylor nodded, not moving straight away. Instead, he tenderly kissed Christian's neck and shoulder blades before standing back up and pulling out of Christian's ass, "Sorry."

"Don't ever be sorry with me," Christian commented, standing up and grabbing Taylor's strong jaw. He forcefully kissed the man, wanting to wipe away this insecurity where sex was involved, "Come shower with me."

"Okay. I'll maybe need you to help me remove, uh," he nodded his head over his shoulder and laughed weakly, "I think that was one of the best shags I've ever had."

"I am a master of sex," Christian winked, "Lets go get showered and we can go somewhere for the day. Somewhere away from Seattle and all this crazy shit."

"I know a place," Taylor nodded as he followed Christian into the bathroom, "I know just the place."


	25. Chapter 25

**WARNING; Rated M for future m/m and adult themes, this is not going to be a CG/Ana fic. It will be a CG/Taylor**

 **Chapter; 25.**

Taylor drove the Audi out of the city with little conversation. He stared ahead, a pair of aviator sunglasses masking his line of sight from Christian's view. It was going to be a warm day; the further they drove from Seattle, the more the cloud cover vanished into a beautiful bright blue sky, the sun casting heat through the reinforced windows onto Christian's face.

He wasn't sure where they were heading. For all he knew, Taylor was actually the man behind the letters and intended to steal Christian away somewhere private to act out the vicious threats. It was a chilling thought, one which made Christian's stomach roll with familiar fear and worry.

"You alright?" Taylor called from ahead, insistent that Christian ride in the back until they were safely out of the city at the very least. Christian had known better than to argue the point; it was nearly always a losing battle arguing with Taylor when his security was at risk. Secretly Christian was enjoying the warm sensation of being protected, too. After his traumatic start in life, Christian rarely experienced a feeling of safety around another human being but, certainly, Taylor was doing it for him.

"Where are you taking me?" Christian asked, sitting forward to be better heard over the hum of the Q7's engine.

"Trust me; you'll like it," was all Taylor said, that half smirk creeping up the side of his face. Christian watched him in the rear view mirror before looking back outside. Trust was very hard for him to do but he trusted Taylor. Taylor wouldn't hurt him.

They were nearing the state boarder when Taylor finally pulled into a gas station, Christian jumping out with him and stretching his legs, "Are we heading to Oregon?" he asked as Taylor fuelled up the Audi.

"Yup," he replied, pushing his aviators up onto his head and looking at Christian, "I'm going to go for a pee before we leave here. Do you want to get some snacks?"

"Sure," Christian nodded, walking side by side with Taylor into the service station. Taylor scanned the shop before dipping into the gents, Christian paying for the fuel and food just as Taylor returned.

"So what was it like growing up with the Greys?" Taylor asked as they both climbed back into the Audi. He opened a can of redbull from Christian's bag of goodies and slotted it neatly in one of the cup holders before turning on the engine.

"Mom and Carrick were great," Christian shrugged, unsure why he wanted to know. He looked at Taylor curiously, studying his strong jaw and crooked nose, "I guess I was the little shit."

"How so?" Taylor asked, pulling out from the service station and making for the motorway again. Christian took the opportunity to adjust the front passenger seat into a more comfortable position, eyes never really leaving Taylor's face.

"Just stuff, I guess," Christian shrugged, "I wasn't great at respecting authority. Mom says they spoilt me as a kid because I was such a sorry state when they met me. Twin that with my traumatic star in life and you've got one arrogant teenage monster to control."

He looked away and stared at the road in front of them, opening his gummy worms before adding, "I was a heavy drinker when I was a teen. I started stealing Mom's vodka. They realised I was pouring it into a lemonade bottle and refilling it with water. Then Mom put it in the freezer and the glass shattered."

"Clever," Taylor mused.

"Irritating, you mean," Christian laughed, remembering how both he and Elliot had been made to sit on the family sofa where they had had to stay until one of them owned up to committing the crime. Elliot still brought it up at family events, forever teasing his parents for their assumptions that it was him when, in fact, it had been 'the Golden Son' who'd been stealing their liquor, "They moved all of the alcohol into the billiard room and kept it under lock and key. They didn't realise I could climb through the window."

"Billiard room," Taylor laughed with a snort, "Oh how the other half live."

"What? Doesn't everyone have a Billiard room?" Christian asked mockingly, shaking his head and looking up at Taylor's ruggedly handsome face once more.

"I think there was a Billiard room in the homeless unit I lived in," Taylor mused, "I don't really remember; it was a bit of a whirlwind."

"I still can't believe your dad chucked you out when you were seventeen," Christian muttered. Even when his own behaviour had become so aggressive and extreme, Carrick and Grace never gave up in him. Elena had become his saviour and introduced him to an outlet which allowed him to channel his negative energy into something he'd enjoyed. Had that not happened, had Christian burnt all his bridges with the people he loved, he was positive he'd have ended up a ruin like his biological mother.

Taylor shrugged and focused on the road for a bit, clicking his tongue before speaking, "Home was never a happy place for me. We'd no money, dad's wages barely covered the rent, my mom worked three jobs to bring food to our table. I did what I could and so did my sister but," Taylor shrugged again, "I fell in with the wrong crowd young and began making money the wrong way, getting in trouble. Dad disowned me for making my mother cry."

"Tough love," Christian commented softly, afraid to speak too loudly in case the increase of volume spooked Taylor into closing up. It was so very rare that Taylor willingly disclosed information about his life to Christian and it made these moments so important for Christian. He didn't know why, but he needed to know more about Taylor. Perhaps it was because Christian felt he'd found an ally in Taylor? A man who understood the effect of poverty and abuse, someone who'd also seen the dark side of humanity and rose above it? Someone who knew true hunger, true cold, true fear? Someone who acted out as a young adult and very nearly found themselves on a path to destruction? Christian had never felt this connection with anyone else before, he'd never known anyone who stood a chance of understanding him. Taylor, in less than a week, had sussed Christian out and didn't seem disgusted by the mess of a man he was. Instead, Taylor appreciated his mental state.

"What was your poison?" Christian pressed when Taylor didn't provide more information, "Mines was vodka."

"Mines wasn't drink," Taylor admitted with a laugh which sounded…nervous. Christian stared at him maybe a little harder than he should have because Taylor turned to look at him, lifting his shades up onto his head and meeting Christian with those murky green/blue/swampy brown eyes. In the light of the late morning sun, they looked more hazel than normal, an abnormal mix of colour for sure. But they didn't distract Christian like they would normally do.

"Drugs?" Christian echoed, his stomach rolling as a sudden blurry memory of his mother washed over his vision. Greasy hair over her spotty face, tweaking as she searched the thread in the carpet for shards of ice she might have dropped. Mommy's Medicine; Heroin to stop the dope sickness, meth for fun.

Taylor looked forward again, diverting his eyes from Christian and staring ahead once more, "I've said too much," he decided, turning on the stereo and lowering his glasses.

Christian continued to stare at Taylor, hard, his mind swimming with questions which demanded answers. Was Taylor a junkie like mommy? Would he end up hurting him like mommy and her friends had? When was the last time he tried illicit substances? What had he taken?

"What did you use?" Christian pressed.

"It's not up for discussion," Taylor snapped and Christian could see Taylor's eyebrows narrow, his lips drawing into a thin line. Usually, even when he gave Christian that horribly annoying smug smile of his, there was a warmth around Taylor. However now he seemed completely cold and closed up. Christian decided not to push him further and, the more he thought about it, why should he tell Christian what was his past? He was a very guarded, stoic man with the occasional cheeky streak. What did it matter that in his past he'd dabbled in illegal substances? Christian didn't define himself by the actions of his teenage self so why should Taylor?

Still, it was a shock to Christian that Taylor had ever used drugs and he couldn't stop his mind wondering about it as they drove in silence for another hour.

Eventually, Taylor pulled up by a national park, parking in between a Ford and a motor bike. He turned off the engine and finished his redbull before looking at Christian, "That's us here."

"About time," Christian commented, cracking his back as he stretched before climbing out of the car, "Where are we?"

"Somewhere you can relax," Taylor said, locking the door, "I used to come out here camping a lot."

"I thought you were a Forest Man," Christian chuckled, following Taylor's lead. The man walked confidently and with knowledge down the woodland path. He seemed to be at ease, or at least as 'at ease' as Taylor allowed himself to be. The forest they were walking through was gorgeous; the sheer size of the trees made Christian feel incredibly small and humble, the earth beneath his feet clean and the air actually tasted fresh with every breath he took.

"This is beautiful," Christian commented, looking up at the colours of the leaves above him.

"It certainly is," Taylor agreed, giving Christian a pleasant smile for once as they walked along what was actually a poorly established trail. He could hear the sound of water running, however, and he wondered if they were close to rapids or something like a waterfall, "It's good to get out of the city once in a while."

"Do you prefer being out of the city?" Christian asked curiously.

"I don't care," Taylor shrugged, silence befalling them for a moment. He appeared to realise his response didn't really offer much in way of a conversation and so added, "Do you?"

Christian looked up at him and laughed. The man wasn't great at speaking, Christian had learnt this quickly enough. He was good at being cheeky but actually holding a conversation with another human being appeared to be a bit of a challenge for him when he didn't have the need to display the alpha dog bravado.

"What?" Taylor asked with a frown, "Why are you laughing at me?"

"You're just, I don't know what," Christian laughed a little more, "You're an enigma, Taylor. I can't get a read from you at all. You're terrible at holding a conversation but you're a trier and that makes it actually quite…adorable? Adorable is probably not the right word to describe you but I'll stick with it for a bit."

Taylor coughed and looked away, turning his face away from Christian's, "Ah, up ahead. We're going up ahead." His reaction made Christian snicker a little; oh how easy it was to embarrass Mr Taylor.

They continued a little longer before breaking clear of the forest and standing before the most beautiful waterfall Christian had ever seen.

"Wow," Christian mumbled, stepping forward towards the shallows, a smiling dancing across his lips. The falls were a good bit away, the lake before them a mix of two colours. Nearer the Fall itself, the water was darker and Christian assumed that was due to depth. The water immediately in front had a rusty colour to it because of the large flat rocks and gravel on the water bed. To the left, there was evidence of other people being there –camping chairs, a used BBQ, some discarded beach towels- though Christian couldn't physically see anyone else around them.

"Taylor, this is beautifu-" He stopped dead in his tracks when he turned around. Taylor had stripped completely down and was stood before Christian, wearing a pair of bright red boxer trunks, his abandoned clothes folded neatly beside his work boots, guns hidden under his heavy jacket at the bottom of the pile. He straightened himself back up and looked directly at Christian, an eyebrow cocked behind his aviators and that smug half smirk plastered up his left cheek. Christian felt himself begin to salivate, his mouth agape and the sudden bang of list he felt was very much apparent; he could see his own reflection mirrored off of Taylor's shades.

Perhaps the most attractive element about this man, however, was how confident he was of his body despite the tiger-stripe knife wound scars and bullet blemishes. It was a confidence which Christian found contagious, beginning to also undress, though his clothes weren't folded even half as neatly as Taylor's.

"It's going to be cold," Christian pointed out.

Taylor continued to smirk as he approached Christian, his eyes scanning around them for a mere second before his lips crashed against Christian's. He couldn't help but kiss Taylor back, his hand stroking the man's lightly stubbled jaw.

"The cold water's not a bad thing in hindsight," Christian joked when they parted, Taylor's hands unbuckling his belt for him before he walked away, stepping into the shallows of the lake after adjusting his boxers to hide the fact he'd a semi. Christian enjoyed the view of the man's ass before he finished stripping down to his own black boxer briefs, hurrying after Taylor as best he could.

The water was cold initially and at first Christian felt a stingy pain in his feet which nearly saw him turn back, but after a few more steps the initial pain subsided in his feet and he began to focus on the chilly cold as he waded knee deep, and then thigh deep.

"Fuuuuck," Christian shuddered through gritted teeth, afraid to go any further as he cupped his junk protectively from the cold. Ahead of him, Taylor laughed and lunged face first into the water, totally submerging himself before surfacing.

"Wooooooaaaah!" Taylor howled, taking off his aviators and whistling as he threw them to the shore, "Phhhwaaa."

"Cold?" Christian guessed, watching as Taylor coughed before he lay on his back and floated like a human starfish, legs and arms outstretched as he allowed the water's momentum to drift him.

"It's fine once you're in," Taylor called, though Christian was positive he heard the shiver in his voice, "Come on."

"My balls with freeze off," Christian argued, jumping back when Taylor splashed him, "Hey!"

"Come on; I'll keep your balls warm," Taylor said almost lyrically, blowing him a kiss before smirking and laying his head back in the water, "Besides. It's the candiru you've gotta look out for."

"Ca-what?" Christian echoed suspiciously, watching as Taylor found his feet on the rocky bed and begun wading towards him, a mischievous glint in those swampy coloured eyes.

"It's this little fish. Swims up your urethra," Taylor explained, holding a hand out and snaking it in the air like an eel, demonstrating the terrifying image Christian suddenly had in the forefront of his mind, "Little bastards eat you from the inside out."

"Fucking hell, I'm out of here," Christian growled, holding himself tighter than he'd ever held himself before. Fish swimming up his cock were hard limits. Period. There was no way he was letting that happen to himself.

He was nearly knee high in the water when two arms wrapped around his waist tightly, holding him in place.

"Come on, _Chrissy_ ," Taylor laughed in his ear, dragging him back deeper into the water, "Come swim with me. I'll protect you."

"Taylor!" Christian exclaimed as he was lifted off his feet as Taylor arched his back and began carrying him back towards the deeper water, "Don't you fucking dare. Don't you dare!"

He tried to wriggle out of Taylor's grasp but Taylor was the bigger of the two males and at this angle he couldn't kick him like he really, really wanted to, "Let me go!"

"Let you go?" Taylor chuckled, "Sure, okay!" he smirked, throwing both of them forward into the deeper water and letting go.

Christian's body screamed in shock as the cold water completely surrounded him, freezing him. His feet found the rocky floor and he pushed himself upwards to the surface with a raspy gasp, water pissing out of his nose, "You asshole!" he choked, frozen ridged as he tried to catch his breath.

Taylor laughed heartedly and splashed him playfully, "Come on, Chrissy," he teased, "It's fine once you get used to it."

"I'll fucking let you get used to it," Christian snarled and swam towards Taylor quickly, the bigger man laughing as he tried to swim away. Christian was faster, however, and grabbed him by the shoulders. He climbed up onto his back and pushed him under, laughing as he disappeared, "Hope a dick fish doesn't swim up your nose!" he called before gasping when Taylor pushed up from beneath him at speed and caused Christian to be thrown from his back.

He surfaced with a laugh, flicking his hair out of his eyes as he watched Taylor snorting water out of his own nose, "You're dead, Grey."

"Oh, is it ' _Grey_ ' now, _Mr_ Taylor?" Christian grinned…then frowned and began swimming fast in the direction of the waterfall, Taylor charging right behind him like a bull. "Hey, stop, you're supposed to protect me," Christian reminded him just as Taylor grabbed his kicking foot and pulled back towards his body, "Hey!"

Taylor pulled him towards his front, the bigger man still able to place his feet on the rocky bed, submerged up to his shoulders. Christian wasn't as lucky. Instead he found himself wrapping his legs around Taylor's waist, looking down into Taylor's odd eyes. He noticed Taylor's breathing was laboured and heavy, the man's stare burning with want as he wrapped his arms around Christian's lower back and pressed them both together more tightly.

"You look," Taylor started, his cheeks burning up bashfully despite the chill in the water, "I was about to say 'you look amazing wet' but, uh, that's a little weird because there's a double entendre, but that really only applies to women. And you're not a woma-"

Christian rolled his eyes, grabbing Taylor's cheeks and kissing him deeply, the man beneath him settling in against Christian's lips with a low, contented sigh. After a few moments of slow, sloppy kisses, Taylor's hands took a firmer grasp of Christian's ass and his teeth clamped down tightly on Christian's bottom lip.

Christian parted and looked down at him hungrily, reaching between their bodies and taking a firm hold of both his own dick and Taylor's through their soaking underwear. Taylor shifted his stance in response, still holding Christian up since he was the only one of them who was still within his depth.

"Yes," Taylor mumbled, nuzzling against Christian's neck wantonly, his teeth scraping his skin, "Please, Sir," he added.

His words, a mere whisper of lust, were like a melody to Christian's ears. He no longer felt the chill of the water, in fact Christian wouldn't have been surprised if they were causing the lake to steam up. Both men were becoming beyond hot and bothered as Christian did his best to jerk them both off with the added resistance of the water and the constraints of their wet boxers.

"Ohh," Taylor groaned, his face twisted with pleasure as he laid his head back in the water, "Fu-uck."

"Enjoying that?" Christian asked him, recapturing his lips for a dominating kiss which made Taylor moan, biting Christian once more. The sharp sting of his teeth went straight to Christian's cock and made him jerk his hips forward involuntarily. In response to that, Taylor removed one of his arms from Christian's back and used his free hand to push down his boxers to give Christian better access to his dick.

Christian laughed a little at his eagerness, kissing Taylor's lips whilst his hands found the man's balls and began to massage them gently. It was Taylor who then kicked his hips forwards, his hands snaking down the back of Christian's underwear suddenly before his fingers found Christian's back passage.

"Oh," Christian gulped, not expecting such a bold and brash movement from the usually stoic and reserved bodyguard.

"That okay?" Taylor double checked, slowly fingering Christian. His apprehension was adorable, and the sensation of having Taylor inside him again was intense, particularly out in public. Christian nearly forgot that they were, in fact, in a forest where a dog walker or group of elderly hikers could appear at any moment and witness what should really be a private moment. But what Taylor was doing back there felt too fucking good to care about witnesses. Taylor had a gun; if someone walked in at this exact moment, Christian would shoot them himself.

He pulled down the front of his own boxers enough to free his dick before wrapping a hand around both of their dicks, his other arm around Taylor's neck to steady himself and keep their lips within kissing distance.

"Shit, Taylor," Christian growled as Taylor appeared to slip in a second finger, rubbing him rather than poking him. The sensation was out of this world, "Keep doing that," he demanded, his voice coarse with lust, "Don't stop or you will be punished."

"Yes Sir," Taylor said with an affirmative nod. Christian could only imagine how terrified he was that Christian wouldn't let him finish; the idea of being denied an orgasm right now was like a nightmare to Christian himself.

He fought the added weight of the water and sped up his jerking, ignoring the cramp in his forearm as he did so.

"Christi-argh, Mr Grey, I'm gonna cum, Sir," Taylor admitted, looking up at Christian with hooded eyes.

He was trying his best to hold Christian up but Christian could feel the man's beefy thighs beginning to shiver with the pressure of his imminent orgasm. Bless him, Christian thought, as Taylor's mouth parted and his breathing hitched. He was trying so hard to keep his finger movement as fluid as possible but he was starting to falter as his need to cum outgrew his desire to get Christian off. Not that it mattered, Christian was just as close, and watching this rugged, alpha male come undone beneath Christian was ridiculously hot.

"Do it," Christian ordered, gasping as he came watching Taylor shudder and grunt lowly.

"Argh," he murmured, before hissing when Christian continued to stroke and pull his sensitive cock, "Stop, stop," he laughed weakly, laying his head on Christian's collar, "Fuck."

Christian laughed, legs still around Taylor's waist. He laid his head on top of Taylor's, starting to feel the chill of the water.

"That was…interesting," he said, flexing the arm he'd been using to jerk them both off, "I've got the worst cramp possible."

"I could imagine," Taylor laughed, lifting his head up once again and kissing Christian lightly. "Worth it though."

"Worth it, indeed," Christian chuckled.

He was about to kiss Taylor again when he heard a twig snapping behind him. He went to turn but Taylor had noticed the movement already. It was nearly superhuman, as though the Bodyguard had heard the twig snap before it actually happened. He'd dropped Christian into the water, moving to stand between him and the sound of the noise.

A spaniel appeared from the trees and approached the water's edge, lapping up a bit of water before it noticed both Christian and Taylor. When it did, it froze, staring directly ahead at them both.

"Bella!" someone called, an elderly man appearing after the dog, "Little shit, don't run away from me like that," he laughed, putting his dog on a lead before looking up towards the waterfall. He jumped when he spotted both Taylor and Christian then Christian was sure he saw him blush.

"Hello there, boys," he called, waving awkwardly.

"Hello," Christian called back, peeking over Taylor's shoulder to smile at the man, "Beautiful day for a hike?"

"It is that," the man agreed, looking at Christian and then the silent Taylor who was radiating all manners of deadly energy that even Christian felt a little threatened by his bodyguard, "Are you okay?"

Subtext; _is that quiet man threatening you in anyway?_

"We're fine," Christian reassured, "We've escaped Seattle for the day; thought we'd check out the waterfall."

"Well enjoy the rest of your day," the elderly man said, looking directly at Taylor again before turning with his dog and walking away. Even when he left, Taylor didn't seem to relax. Instead, he was scanning the forest around them, as though he anticipated danger.

"Come on, Taylor, relax," Christian called as he floated on his back, "You were in a great mood beforehand."

"What if he knew you?" Taylor commented with an almost disgusted expression.

"We're in a completely different State," Christian countered, "Oregon's pretty liberal. Men kissing men isn't a massive deal."

"It is to me," Taylor growled sharply. He turned to stare directly at Christian, his eyes narrowed, "Look, I'm going to get out here and get dressed. This," he waved between them, "This shouldn't happen. It's wrong."

"…what the fuck are you on about?" Christian frowned, "It wasn't 'wrong' to you about fifteen minutes ago! What changed?"

"That guy could have been a shooter and I was distracted," Taylor snapped, walking back to shore at speed. Christian hated how he couldn't help himself stare at the guy's ass as he moved. The water clung to his red boxers and fitted his muscular ass nearly perfectly, a sight truly worth beholding even if he was being an absolute twat.

"No, you wouldn't have brought me here if you didn't think it was safe," Christian countered, following him out of the water, struggling with the stones underfoot which suddenly felt sharp and painful after nearly an hour of floating around with Taylor in a happy bubble, "You're miserable because you're afraid."

"I'm not afraid of anything," Taylor snorted, fixing Christian with that mocking half-assed smirk, "Anything."

"You're afraid that that man saw us kissing," Christian pointed out, "Because you're afraid of yourself."

"What sort of fairy shit is that? I know myself," Taylor spat.

"Do you?" Christian retorted, "Because I don't think you do. I think you can't accept the fact you may be gay and you don't want anyone to see it."

"I'm not gay," Taylor growled, thrusting his wet legs into his combat trousers, "I'm straight."

"Sure you are," Christian retorted as he copied and pulled his slim fits over his wet legs, grimacing as the material scraped against his cold skin, "And I'm the queen of England."

"Pleasure to meet you, your Majesty," Taylor smirked sarcastically.

"You're impossible," Christian snapped back. He grabbed his t-shirt and pulled it on, throwing his jacket over his shoulders and then stuffing his feet roughly into his shoes. He began walking back along the trail whilst Taylor still wrestled his flippers into his boots.

"Hey, where are you going?" Taylor growled, Christian watching him hopping after him as he finished dressing.

"Back to the Audi. I'm hungry," Christian informed him, "So keep up or fuck off."


	26. Chapter 26

**WARNING; Rated M for future m/m and adult themes, this is not going to be a CG/Ana fic. It will be a CG/Taylor**

 **Warning; angst/struggling/confusion with sexuality**

 **Chapter; 26.**

Jason felt a sickness boiling up from his gut to the back of his throat. What the fuck was wrong with him? Even as Grey stormed ahead of him, Jason couldn't stop himself staring directly at the man's ass and checking him out like some sort of perverted monster. He despised himself for listening to the voice in his mind who encouraged him to chase after Christian Grey romantically; his actions were truly disgusting to him.

Jason had worked all his God damn life to keep that queer voice silent, to hide it in the back of his mind. He'd a daughter for fuck sake, how could he even consider being anything but straight for Sophie's benefit? Mommies and Daddies, not Daddies and daddies. It would break his family's heart if Jason was anything but the top dog. His mom and dad had already lost his sister, having a gay son would kill them.

"I'm eating those snacks while you drive me somewhere for a coffee," Christian mumbled up ahead, not looking at Taylor as they approached the Q7 once more. The car park was still as quiet as it had been earlier with no extra cars having appeared and no sign of walkers and witnesses to their domestic. Not that they were domestic enough to have a domestic. Oh heck, Jason didn't know what to think.

Christian turned briefly and looked at Jason's feet as he added, "And then we're going into Grey House. I should be working."

"Sure," Jason mumbled, fishing out the car keys and opening the car for Grey to jump into. He wasn't surprised that Christian would want to go to Grey House, even on a weekend. Work was his safe place, where he felt stable and in control. Jason only wished he'd the ability to go to his safe place and recuperate his mind; channel whatever gay thoughts he was experiencing and remind himself he was a straight man and only that.

Maybe Sawyer could cover a day shift with Grey whilst Jason went and got himself laid? It seemed extreme but it had been a long time since he'd been with a woman so perhaps that was what he needed to do to get over this fascination with Christian Grey. Only, Jason didn't want that. He didn't want a woman; the thought was very bland and not exciting at all which was when Jason realised how in trouble he was; he needed to get his head and thoughts back together.

Christian went into the back of the car without complaint which Jason was thankful for; he was glad to have the space between them. Distance from this man would hopefully award him the ability to practice some meditation shit and refocus and think before he next had to talk to Christian Grey. He turned the engine on and then checked the satnav for the nearest coffee shop for his Lordship before setting off.

"Radio," Christian demanded, Jason obliging. Classical Radio seemed to be Christian's favourite, he'd learnt the man had an eclectic taste when it came to music, and Jason was finding a calmness in Ludovico.

The nearest reputable coffee shop was a whole twenty five minutes away and in that time, Jason had managed to calm his temper and anxieties down to a six out of ten. He was still plenty angry at himself for so publically kissing a man, let alone a client, but he was past the stage of lashing out at Christian. It wasn't his fault and he knew this, but it was easier for Jason to blame the man rather than addressing the real issue he was suffering; he had developed a strong attraction to a man and this violated his entire core beliefs.

He parked away from the bulk of cars already there and turned off the engine, his fingers tapping the steering wheel. He stole a glance back in his rearview mirror and saw Christian was engrossed in figures on his mobile phone.

"That's us here," Jason said, his voice a little hoarse from lack of talking.

"I know," Christian muttered, "I'm reading something Jack Hyde sent over."

Jason's skin prickled; he didn't like that hippy dippy Japanese-fetish man. However, he merely nodded and climbed out of the car, stretching his back and cracking his arms. He glanced around them out of habit before opening Christian's door for him, the younger man climbing out without so much as a nod of thanks.

Instead, Christian headed straight into the coffee shop and went straight to the barista, "Black coffee," he said, turning finally to look at Jason with those beautiful grey eyes. Jason felt his temper melting from a six to a four; the man before him was so fucking beautiful, even when he was giving Jason such a cold look. "What do you want?"

"Same," Jason said then added, "And a scone."

"Plain?"

"Yup."

"Fine."

Christian turned and nodded to the barista who completed their order, paying for the refreshments given that the last coffee shop stop had been paid for by Jason himself a couple days ago. Jason carried their tray of drinks to a table far from the window, Christian slotting into one side of the booth whilst Jason took the other. Again, eye contact was minimal and Jason couldn't help but feel like a naughty school boy being punished in that horrible 'I'm disappointed in you' way.

He was conflicted over the whole thing. He needed to distance himself emotionally from Christian because Christian's mere presence was bringing out that gay fantasizing side in Jason that he'd worked his whole life to repress…but at the same time he desperately wanted things to go back to where they'd been before the walker had stumbled upon them post orgasm in a lake. Jason had felt a great sense of happiness in that moment which was a rare sensation for him, and he was certain Christian felt the same.

After five minutes of the cold shoulder, Jason finally decided to be the bigger man and put things right. "Look, Christian, that got out of hand back ther-"

"This got out of hand the beginning of this week," Christian interrupted with an icy glare, "I don't want you saying otherwise. Whatever we had is over. Keep me alive and when this stalker is caught you go your way and I'll go mine."

"Perfect," Jason agreed, picking at his plain scone.

It didn't feel perfect, however. In fact Jason was surprised by how far his stomach dropped at the idea of separating from Christian once the job was done and that had never happened before. Then again, Jason had never so much as kissed a client, let alone fuck them.

Something about Christian made him abandon his morals and self-imposed work code of conduct. He knew his working partners had fraternised. Heck, Sawyer had a kid in Hong Kong he never saw because he'd gotten drunk after a job and he and his then ex client had booty called each other. But that was not Jason's way; he'd never so much as been tempted until Christian Grey.

Then again, he'd never connected with another human on the same level as he had done with Christian. Even his ex-wife hadn't understood Jason like Christian could.

They finished their drinks, Jason forcing the last half of his scone down his throat. As they headed back to the car, Christian took a call from Jack Hyde, the pair talking for most of the car ride home. Jason could do nothing but look ahead and remind himself that once he was finished with this job, he'd never have to see Christian again.


	27. Chapter 27

**WARNING; Rated M for future m/m and adult themes, this is not going to be a CG/Ana fic. It will be a CG/Taylor**

 **Sub-warning; drinking.**

 **Chapter; 27.**

Jason didn't know what he thought of Elena. On one hand, she was a real life dominatrix which was a little hot. He'd watched her bossing around her domestic drones, hapless men falling around her feet at her every whim. He'd long suspected he liked the idea of being bossed around for sexual gratification. His ex-wife, for instance, used to say he was a soldier in every aspect of their lives which conflicted against her very liberal new age way of being. One occasion, Lynn had put him to the test and brought an element of dominance to what had become their mundane bedtime routine and Jason considered it the best sexual experience to occur in his marriage. He'd just lacked the ability to communicate that with his wife because, shit, how could he tell a woman he'd enjoyed her beating him over with that bog standard riding crop?

Had Jason married someone like Elena, however, he wondered if he'd ever gotten a divorce? She was an attractive woman, after all, who exuded confidence and power which were both traits Jason found sexy as hell.

But she wasn't Christian.

Seeing both Elena and Christian sat side by side in their own private booth, there was absolutely a clear winner in who Jason wanted. Christian, like Elena, had that confidence and power which attracted Jason, but he also had a level of class. Considering his poor start in life, Christian carried himself like every other young, rich, influential socialite; hair perfectly placed, a fashionable slim cut suit and polished brown Alessandro Demesure Berluti oxfords. Jason knew full well that his smile was pinned on and that internally he was wilting with the constant death threats and paranoia, however he understood that appearance was everything and he needed to be strong. He looked both regal and youthful, in complete control of the room as Elena's minions brought them both cocktails.

"I'm so glad you came out for once, Christian," Elena commented, sipping the third fruity little number of the evening, "You've had me worried."

"I've been fine," Christian replied, his tone steady as he made a face at the sweetness of his drink. Jason had come to learn that Christian was a gin man, with an occasional scotch. Never usually something fruity, unless he was with Elena like tonight. So far, he'd been mixing drinks; gin and vodka with whatever Elena's slaves were putting in those cocktails, "I've been getting on well with Jack Hyde of SIP. He's enthusiastic about working with us."

"Is that the guy you said had the weird Japanese fetish?" Elena asked, making Jason nod unconsciously. It was weird alright; a grown man being so enthusiastic about a culture that ate live seafood. Or at least that was the aspect Jack liked. Jason had spent many months in Japan and loved every minute, the people he'd interacted being relatively normal unlike the image Jack Hyde seemed fascinated over. Jason wondered if he'd ever even been to Japan because, should he have, he'd surely understand that his entire office was just one goddamn living stereotype.

"He studied Japanese literacy at college," Christian defended, "But yes, his hobby is a little…strange. However, he's a good worker behind all the collectables. He's already implemented the changes my team have asked of him. I'm confident he'll do a good job in a position of authority."

"Christian Grey, delegating authority," Elena teased, "I never thought I'd see the day."

"I have a lot of other projects that need my input. Jack can make SIP flourish, I'm sure," Christian muttered, leaning forward in his seat and looking out towards the stage before them.

Jason was glad that this booth's windows were mirrored on the outside; the thought that he could be seen watching a BDSM themed fashion show made his entire body blush. Being in this booth, with Christian and Elena and two of Elena's slaves stood to the left with their heads bowed, was enough for him.

"Mr Taylor, would you like a drink?" Elena asked, turning in her leather chair and studying him curiously, a perfectly pruned eyebrow lifting as she ran her gaze over him with approval.

"Taylor, please," Jason reminded her, keeping his expression neutral and not rising to her suggestive mannerisms, "And no, thank you."

"Of course, _Taylor_. Let me know if you need anything," Elena said, winking at him flirtatiously before turning back as the walkway lights began to glow an unsettling royal purple.

"Elena, Taylor isn't interested in you," Christian commented dryly, his head shaking, "Stop trying to convert him to being one of your ghouls."

"Oh Christian, you're no fun," Elena muttered, "Taylor and I are joking. Am I correct, soldier?" she added, turning back to look directly at him once more. This time, Christian glanced back over his shoulder to watch Jason's expression closely.

The temptation to wink at Elena to spite Christian was immense, but he held himself back. Instead he shrugged and scratched his jaw, attempting to look bored rather than show that he was envisioning what being a 'ghoul' would be like for the day.

"See," Christian muttered, "Leave him alone. The show's starting."

After the week he and Christian had shared, avoiding each other around Escala, only communicating in short sentences with regards to safety and nothing more, sitting with Elena and Christian in a BDSM club seemed surreal. Elena had acquired tickets from a 'client' – Jason didn't know if she meant a BDSM client or a haircut client- and Christian had decided to go along with her to meet potential Subs. That had been a thought which sickened Jason; the idea of Christian with another person.

The show was something. There was no other way of describing it. Despite being in their luxurious little booth, above the 'commoners', Jason still felt dirty and seedy. Perhaps it was because Elena's slaves kept topping up their drinks and the snack trays? Or maybe it was the dancers wearing leather chapless trousers? Could have even been the women being dragged down the walkway on all fours wearing nothing but dog harnesses and cartoonish puppy masks which made Christian 'Hmmm' in interest?

No, Jason was positive the reason he felt seedy is because he rather liked what was in front of him and that disgusted him. He'd a daughter, for crying out loud, and there were women literally dressed as dogs and bowing in submission to their masters. What the hell?

"I think I'll buy one of those harnesses," Christian mumbled during the interval, enjoying another slow gin. Jason had been watching his alcohol intake for most of the evening and he was becoming concerned; for the past few hours he'd been knocking them back like a trooper.

"I wasn't too keen on that; it feels a little too much for me," Elena mused thoughtfully before spitting out her drink and throwing it abusively at her slave, "Soda water?! I asked for tonic, worm!"

Jason shook his head as the poor 'slave' scurried out the door to make amends to his mistress's drink order. 'Too much' his ass.

"So will you be at your mother's this weekend?" Elena asked Christian. Jason rolled his eyes; yet another fight the two had had recently. Jason wasn't happy that Christian would be going to such a high profile event; everyone on the West Coast wanted a ticket to the Grey's annual charity ball. Which meant that the event was a high risk.

Jason had told Christian he was stupid to think going was a good idea. Christian had hit back with a 'I can't not go; it's the only thing my mum asks me to attend every year.'. Finally, a compromise was made. Christian gave Jason permission to reveal to the Grey's head of security, Michael, that he was in fact Christian's bodyguard and not his Veteran Schemed PA. Michael had apparently already knew this, having done background checks on Jason, and with the confirmation, he'd gladly sent Jason a list of the guests coming, the guests security details as well as the security the Grey's were already providing.

There were blue prints of Grey mansion and the marque, risk assessments for the fairground rides –because of course the Super Rich needed a Ferris wheel-, the contact details of the pyrotechnics and the schedule for the fireworks as well as the specific brands. It had given Jason a lot of reading and, if he was honest, there was nothing he'd have added. Michael had everything military precise and he'd even offered Jason an earpiece to listen to the security chatter. All that was missing was a drone overseeing things from an aerial stance.

"Yes, I will be," Christian nodded, "Elliot is bringing someone and wants to bring her friend along."

"Trying to set you up again?" Elena asked, "When will that brother of yours settle down?"

"God knows," Christian shrugged, standing on drunken legs, "If she passes Michael's security drilling, I'll maybe entertain her for the night," he slurred before looking at Jason and pointing at him, "I need a piss."

"I have a guy for that, if you want," Elena teased, winking at Jason when she saw the obvious horror on his face; she'd a guy…for pissing on?

Christian found her joke –Jason prayed it was a joke- amusing and actually laughed in an honest way, smiling at Elena before looking back at Jason, "Comin' to the bathroom?"

"Of course, Sir," Jason sighed, leading his client out into the hall and towards the men's room. He locked the door behind them, disallowing anyone else from entering whilst Christian used the facilities and refreshed himself. Jason took up pew beside Christian and opted to take a comfort break too, save having to wait until the show was done and he got Christian home safe.

Christian's balance was shot to hell three drinks ago and he fell against Jason as he unbuckled his pants, "Shit," he muttered, head on Jason's shoulder.

"It's fine, Sir," Jason sighed, shaking his head as he found himself holding the man up at the urinal with his own free hand, "I think I should take you home now. You're drunk."

"No, I'm not," Christian attempted, shaking and tucking himself back in place before Jason released his hold on the man's collar. He made his way over to the sink and began to wash his hands with the upmost concentration, Jason watching over his shoulder before shaking, zipping and joining him.

Of course, Christian decided to turn Jason's tap on for him, full velocity, soaking his jeans, "Christ sake," Jason grumbled.

"S-sorry," Christian mumbled, turning around and leaning against the sink, "I think I'm drunk."

"I'll say," Jason agreed, washing his hands, "Look, let's get you home to bed."

"What about Elena?" Christian hiccupped, running a wet hand through his hair and messing it up, "I don't feel good."

"I'll text her, come on," Jason said as he wrapped an arm around Christian's waist and held him up as straight as he could. As the show neared its second half, the corridors were practically vacant as the pair stumbled towards the back entrance reserved for the exclusive and the secretive.

The fresh air hit Christian like a ton of bricks, the man's legs going wobbly and Jason having to bear more of his weight as they approached the Audi together, parked beside two limousines and Elena's Mercedes in the furthest away and most secure lot available.

"Come on, stand up," Jason instructed, holding Christian by his belt.

"I don't think I've had that much," Christian complained, "Someone musta spiked me. You let someone spiked me."

"You've had five gins, three vodkas, some 'house measure' cocktails and a shit load of tiramisu," Jason said with a smirk, "Sir."

Christian looked up at him, his eyes zoning in on Jason's lips, before he turned to face the Audi, "Damn you and your sexy smirk," he grumbled, opening the passenger door once Jason had unlocked the car. Usually he'd have preferred Christian in the back but given the state he was in, sitting in the front for the twenty minute drive wasn't a hardship.

"Sexy smirk?" Jason echoed, as he helped Christian settle in the high car.

"Yeah, sexy smirk," Christian muttered, playfully pressing a fist to the side of Jason's face, "I wanna punch it off you."

Jason didn't know quite how to react to that, meeting Christian's grey eyes with his own. Even after a week of the bare minimum level of communication, he still felt the pit of his stomach slosh when Christian stared directly at him.

Christian's fist turned into a hand which stroke Jason's face tentatively before morphing into a single finger which prodded his nose, "Your nose is so squint. How many other men have punch you for smirking at them, I wonder?"

Jason shook his head and stepped back, closing Christian's door before jumping into the driver's seat, "You've had a lot to drink," he commented again, checking the mirrors before pulling away.

"You don't get drunk from eating tiramisu, Jason," Christian snapped, shaking his head as he fumbled with the audio system, "God, such an idiot."

"You've easily had a bottle of gin to yourself tonight," Jason laughed, unable to stop his 'sexy smirk' which had Christian seething. The drunken billionaire slapped Jason's thigh hard before pointing a finger at him.

"I mean it. I'm gonna kick that smile off your face," he stated before turning his attention back to trying to figure out the music system, one eye closed for better concentration and co-ordination, "How do I get it to…hmm…there!"

Jason jumped out of his skin as Christian turned the music from a comfortable 10 percent to a complete full 100.

"Jesus," Jason mumbled, focusing on the road and regretting letting Christian ride shotgun.

"Lay where you're layin'; don't make a sound," Christian sung, completely ignoring Jason's annoyance, "I know they're watchin, watchin. All the commotion, the kiddie like play, it has people talkin. Talkin."

Jason wasn't prepared for the sudden "Yooooooooooooooooou, your sex is on fire!" which came out of Christian's mouth, particularly when he attempted to roll down the bulletproof windows to serenade the city on their drive back to Escala. He attempted to turn down the music, but Christian slapped away his hand whenever it got too close to the controls.

The sight of Escala's underground parking lot had never been so heavenly. He parked in their designated spot before turning off the engine and that godforsaken music.

"Home," Jason said with a triumphant sigh, "Now just to get you up to bed-"

Christian turned in his seat and threw up on Jason, before apologising mid-heave and spraying him with more tiramisu.


	28. Chapter 28

**WARNING; Rated M for future m/m and adult themes, this is not going to be a CG/Ana fic. It will be a CG/Taylor**

 ***Shorter fluff chapter. Next Chapter The Grey's Charity party.**

 **Chapter; 28.**

Christian woke with a sickening combination of tiramisu, sick and liquor in his mouth. He retched and sat up too quickly which caused his tender head to feel as though it were going to erupt. His bleary eyes scanned his surroundings and he realised he was in his bedroom miraculously. How had he gotten here? A quick check revealed that not only was he in bed but he was wearing a pair of pyjama bottoms and a vest top which was odd; he'd absolutely no recollection of dressing himself before bed.

"Shit," he mumbled to himself as he bravely ran his tongue around his mouth, grimacing at the vile taste. He looked to his left and spotted a large glass of orange juice sat on his bedside cabinet like an oasis in a desert. Beside it was a box of paracetamol, two of which had been removed and sat neatly on top of the box. It took Christian a moment to realise that beside both beautiful items were little post-it notes reading; 'Eat Me. Drink Me.'

He didn't need to be told twice, picking up the paracetamol and throwing them back before consuming the orange juice in one deep gulp. With a satisfied sigh, he put the glass down and looked towards the bathroom, realising that someone was showering. Christian prayed it was Taylor; that he hadn't come home with someone random individual from the BDSM fashion show. Had he even said Goodbye to Elena? Where was his phone?

He looked around his bed and spotted his mobile on the floor plugged in and completely charged, a third post-it on the screen reading 'I silenced your alarms'. Christian was shocked to find that it was nearly twelve in the afternoon, five miscalls from Elena and several texts. He opened their message thread and cringed at what he'd attempted to text, drunk;

 **'The show's starting, where are you two? x'**

 **Elena Missed Call**

 _'im ohday togh goto to bed'_

 **'Where are you? I'm worried x.'**

 **Elena Missed Call**

 **Elena Missed Call**

 _'tatylorew hd me'_

 **Elena Missed Call**

 _'m so drunkthw thapppened?:?'_

 **'Taylor called; night night x'**

 _'nittttghr nigh! Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx'_

 **'hahaha x'**

"You fell asleep with your thumb on the screen," Taylor suddenly called, appearing from the bathroom, wrapped in a towel, muscular body damp from his wash, "I'd tried taking your phone from you but you must have pulled it out of my jeans when I was showering. It was actually pretty spectacular; you were slumped forward on the toilet with your phone on the floor, trying to text people."

"I was on the toilet while you were showering?" Christian said, feeling his stomach turn from both his hangover and also from embarrassment.

"Yeah," Taylor said, scratching the back of his neck and causing those amazing muscles to flex, "You were sick on yourself so I had to strip you. Then you told me you needed a piss midway so I just left you sitting there with Mrs Jones' mop bucket while I cleaned up; you threw up all over me in the Audi."

"…shit," Christian groaned, "Taylor I am so sorry. Please, understand that I don't normally behave like that. I don't know what happened, how it happened."

"You didn't eat and Elena's slaves were just throwing whatever they wanted in yours and her drinks," Taylor shrugged and then smiled, "Besides, you were having fun."

"It doesn't feel fun right now," Christian complained, rubbing his head, "Sorry I threw up on you; I don't remember doing it but I believe you."

"You said sorry profusely last night," Taylor said, "After ordering takeaway for me –you ate most of it- you went on and wrote me a cheque for nearly a million dollars…at least I think that's what you tried to write. Your handwriting really renders it uncashable. Don't worry, I've left it on the kitchen counter for your attention."

"I'm such a fucking embarrassment," Christian huffed, flopping back against his pillows. He couldn't believe how atrociously he behaved nor could he understand how Taylor was being so good about his behaviour. He looked back up at Taylor stood there, all damp skinned and muscles. He looked good, Christian thought, but he'd look better without the Egyptian cotton wrapped tightly around his trim waist.

Even though the pair had been distant this last week it hadn't made a dent on how attracted Christian was to Taylor. It just infuriated him that Taylor didn't share the same confidence Christian did when it came to sex. He was just one giant prude, scared to admit to himself what he liked. Because of that, Christian felt like he couldn't pursue him. It felt wrong.

He would only take on Subs who knew themselves and who absolutely consented and believed in what they were doing; Taylor seemed too frightened to give himself over to pleasure and let himself be free of whatever mental chains he'd enforced on himself. To Christian, life was too short to overthink sex and pleasure, and if Taylor couldn't bring himself to admit that he liked what Christian had been to him, Christian couldn't allow himself to fall into a relationship like that.

However, Christian didn't know if drunk he'd decided 'fuck it' with his stance on not pursuing Taylor and that worried him.

"I never…acted inappropriately, did I?" Christian asked with a sudden nervousness which intensified when Jason's lips twisted up into that infuriating lopsided smirk, "Oh fuck, I did."

"No, no, it was okay," Taylor coughed, his cheeks blushing, "You weren't bad. You were just…um, well, horny."

Christian couldn't help roll his eyes; Taylor was more of a prude than Christian had previously believed if he couldn't even say 'horny' without blushing, like it was something sinful.

"What did I do?" Christian pressed, unable to stop himself grinning as Taylor squirmed and tried to come up with a PG way to explain what Christian had done yesterday.

"You, uh," Taylor laughed then fixed Christian with a rare full smile which changed his face completely from the angry and aggressive Marine to something else. Something more…friendly? "You kept offering to suck me off. I was flattered but I can't say watching you cram three slices of pizza into your mouth was a turn on. It was adorable though, I had to work not to laugh at you."

"Sorry about that," Christian sighed, shaking his head, "Thank you for looking after me last night, Jason."

"Not a bother, Christian," Taylor replied, saluting him as he stood up straight and made to walk from the ensuite to the bedroom door, "You weren't a problem."

"Tell that to my liver," Christian chuckled, "I better get up; I've missed a whole morning of figures. Is there anything for lunch?"

"Left over pizza," Taylor replied over his shoulder, "Or I could scrape up some of the regurgitated tiramisu from the Audi driver seat for you. It was chunky."

Christian groaned, clamped a hand over his mouth and ran to the toilet whilst Taylor's laughter echoed around Escala. Bastard, Christian thought as he heaved, unable to stop himself from smiling at the sound despite his nausea.


	29. Chapter 29

**WARNING; Rated M for future m/m and adult themes, this is not going to be a CG/Ana fic. It will be a CG/Taylor**

 **Chapter; 29.**

Christian finished buttoning up his shirt and studied himself in the mirror. He wasn't in the mood for his mother and Carrick's annual charity event but there was no excuse they accept if he attempted to get out of it. The dress code was tuxedos and so Christian had picked out his navy blue barnerini Brioni suit, the side tabs of his trousers really accentuating his trim waist he thought as he spun around in front of the mirror. Fixing his bow tie was the final piece of the puzzle, studying himself until he was satisfied that he'd meet his mother's approval.

"You ready, Taylor?" Christian called as he walked into the main foyer, spying Taylor by the piano studying the keys. He, like Christian was wearing a tux however he'd gone for a more traditional black style. Christian spotted his dinner jacket draped over the sofa as he approached. Stood in his crisp white shirt, black trousers and black braces, the man looked massive. Christian tried his hardest not to remind himself of how it had felt to hold onto those shoulders as tightly as he'd done in the Lake. It was still too difficult to think about when he knew he'd never get that opportunity with Taylor again.

"I've never heard you play it yet," Christian pointed out, approaching Taylor after picking up a glass of scotch, "You said you could."

"Not as good as you, I'm sure," Taylor replied, closing the piano lid and turning round. Christian was sure he took a double take, his usually angry expression softening, "You look great," he complimented.

"So do you," Christian said back, fixing him with a smile to hide the fact he was imagining removing his tux and taking him on the sofa then and there. What was it about this man that made Christian feel so...needy?

"What time are we picking Elena up?" Taylor asked as he walked past Christian to get his jacket. Christian caught whiff of his cologne and felt himself groan lowly to himself, his dick twitching. Damn he was frustrated and Taylor looked and smelt the best he'd ever done, with his hair freshly shaved, his jaw slightly stubbled.

"I've text her to let her know we'll be there in about ten minutes," Christian said as he shook his head, trying to get with it, "We'd better head off now before mom notices we're running late," he added, Taylor grabbing the keys to the Audi and walking ahead.

Elena met them outside her house, jumping into the back with Christian. She, like Taylor and Christian, had also dressed appropriately for the evening; wearing a fitted black midi dress with an intricate red floral lace overlay.

"Good evening, boys," she sighed, pulling a compact from her clutch and sorting her make-up, "You both look very handsome tonight."

"I could really do with not going to this tonight," Christian muttered, "Elliot's got a girl he wants to introduce me to. Says she's 'my type'."

"Oh, Christian, you never know. You might hit it off with her," Elena chuckled, shaking her head, "Besides, come twelve o'clock, Elliot will be completely inebriated dancing to Right Said Fred so you'll be able to sneak away."

Christian grimaced and then laughed. Elliot was reckless at these sorts of functions because he just didn't give a fuck; he didn't appear to have that part of the human brain which controlled inhibitions. And Elena was right; every single party usually ended with Elliot shaking his ass to Right Said Fred's ' _I'm Too Sexy_ '. He considered it **_his_** tune and in college he'd established a choreographed dance along to the beat.

"Right Said Fred?" Taylor questioned from upfront, cocking an eyebrow in the rearview mirror.

"Elliot's dancing song," Christian explained.

"Oh," came the response from the big bodyguard, Elena chuckling away to herself.

"Do you have a dancing song, Taylor?" she asked with a purr to her voice, sitting forward and no doubt smelling Taylor's fragrance as she pulled a pleased expression.

"Hmmpf," Taylor mumbled, shaking his head as he focused on the road. Christian slapped Elena's thigh to remind her not to crowd the bodyguard.

"Leave him alone," he said to her, firmly, and then added, "Tell me about business. How's the salon going?"

Elena babbled the rest of the way to Christian's family home, the older woman incredibly passionate about her work and the highbrow cliental she served. It was always interesting to Christian. He didn't have a lot to do with the Salon's running because it was Elena's baby, but that didn't mean that he didn't like to always be in the loop.

They finally pulled up in Christian's parent's drive, the rest of the guests using one of the large expanses of lawn to park on. Michael met them, shook Taylor's hand before helping Elena out of the car.

"Master Grey," Michael smiled, Christian feeling Taylor smirk behind him, "Your family are in the house still; I believe Mia is having a…wardrobe malfunction."

"It wouldn't be a party if Mia wasn't freaking out over a dress," Christian smiled, linking arms with Elena and walking her securely over the gravel path whilst Taylor followed.

"Is Mia home from Paris for good now?" Elena asked Christian. Christian realised he didn't actually know the answer, making a mental note to organise some alone time with his baby sister. It was long overdue, after all.

"I'm not too sure, Elena," Christian replied, letting go of her arm once they'd entered the house, "You go ahead and get me a drink. I need a moment to prepare for family time," he admitted.

"No problems, Christian. I'll leave you with Taylor," she promised, heading into the kitchen where Christian could hear his mother and Carrick welcoming her warmly.

Christian took that moment to take in a deep breath and mentally prepare himself for spending time with his family. It took a lot out of him; even as an adult he didn't always feel comfortable around 'family'. It was an anxiety thing, his therapist, Dr Flynn, said it was natural after such a traumatic childhood and that he should never feel guilty when he felt he needed to take a ten minute breather to get into the zone.

"Groove Is In The Heart." Taylor said randomly, reminding Christian he wasn't alone in the hallway.

Christian turned back to look at him, standing with his hands in his pockets, "Huh?"

"My party song," Taylor shrugged with a hint of a blush, his large arm coming up behind his head and scratching it, "Groove is in the heart by Deee-Lite."

"Really?" Christian chuckled, feeling the tension leaving his body as he laughed, "You dance to that song?"

"I never said I personally danced to it. I can't dance. But, yeah," he shrugged, "It's the only song I can't stop tapping my feet and bopping my head to."

"…Wow," Christian smiled, "That's a…good one? I don't know if it's good or not. How many people have you admitted that to?"

"One," Taylor said, his mouth fixing up into that irritating lopsided smirk, "So I'll know who's told everyone."

Christian found himself staring at Taylor then, an awkward silence befalling the two of them. What he really wanted to do desperately was kiss the man. They were alone that very second, Christian could hear his mother and Elena ahead in the kitchen greeting each other, but he couldn't. Taylor had made it all very clear that he believed he wasn't gay and Christian refused to be the person to burst Taylor's bubble. IT was so hard not to act upon the moment, particularly when Christian saw Taylor's eyes dip to his lips.

"Christian!" Elliot suddenly declared, throwing a blanket over the spark Christian was experiencing between himself and Taylor.

Christian spun around and had a glass of scotch thrusted into his hand, "Elliot," he smiled at his brother, "How pissed are you already?"

"I've been drinking since I got here," Elliot winked, "Don't tell mom. Hey there, Big T. How are you?"

"I'm fine," Taylor said politely, offering Elliot his hand, "Thank you for having me."

"Hey, it's this guy who wasted his plus one on a sausage," Elliot chuckled, looking at Christian again and winking once more, "Big brother's got your back though; models, Christian. Russian models."

"What?" Christian frowned, echoing, "Russian models?"

"The girls I found for us. Russian swimwear models," Elliot all but cheered, jumping in excitement, "Bro, they're stunning. Nikita and Misha. Misha's mine. Honestly, bro, their legs are as long as the fucking Nile."

"A metaphor, Elliot? Must be love," Christian said sarcastically, shaking his head.

"Don't screw this up for me, Bro," Elliot begged, "Please, just humour Nikita enough that Misha's convinced I'm worth the lay. Please, bro. Bro Code, bro, Bro Code."

"Bro code," Christian rolled his eyes, cursing when Elliot punched his arm, "Hey!"

"T-Bag, tell him," Elliot growled, looking at Taylor now, "Bro Code; help your fellow bro get his dick wet by hot Russian super stars."

"I mean," Taylor said, squeezing Christian's shoulder manfully, "He's got a point. He's going to need your help if he stands a chance at getting laid."

"Exactly," Elliot said, too tipsy to realise Taylor was taking the piss out of him, "Come on, Bro."

"Fine," Christian growled, "If it means so much to you."

"Thank you," Elliot sighed in theatrical relief, grabbing hold of Christian, "Come this way. Nikita's with mom and Carrick right now."

* * *

Nikita and Misha were, in one word, sex. Jason couldn't help it; he found them attractive. But then every hot-blooded male in the room surely thought the exact same thing. Elliot had been right about their legs. They were as long as the Nile and barely covered by their sequin mini-dresses. Jason's first thought when he'd seen them was imagining how good it would feel to run his tongue from their ankle up the full length of their legs to their underwear. It was creepy to think about, sitting in the Grey's kitchen, but sue him; Carrick was thinking the exact same.

And Mrs Grey had noticed when she came downstairs from helping their daughter with her fashion issue.

"Carrick?" she called, her tone like ice.

Carrick's eyes snapped from Nikita's red, plump perfect blow job lips, and to his wife. He fixed her with a weak smile, knowing he was caught, "Yes, honey?"

"Can you ensure all our guests have a drink?" she snipped, pointing to Jason directly, "Mr Taylor doesn't have a glass in his hand."

"I was just getting our lady guests drinks first, Dear. Right, Taylor?" Carrick pointed out, turning to Jason for support.

Jason, well adverse in the Bro Code rulebook, smiled and nodded, "Thank you, Mrs Grey, but he's already offered me; I don't drink."

"Well help yourself to soft drinks, Taylor," Mrs Grey insisted, before grabbing Elena and taking her upstairs to either help Mia with her hair or bitch about her son bringing two of the hottest women in the world to her party. It really could be either, Jason thought; women were fickle. He'd learnt that quickly about his ex-wife after they were married.

Christian didn't look himself as he stood with Nikita by the fireplace, scotch untouched and still in hand. She was the model with the more intense image, Jason thought. She'd perfect blonde hair, pushed back off her face in a 'wet look' style. Her eyes rivalled Christian's in intensity, bewitching blue which Jason believed could turn a man to ice. She was as tall as Christian was in those heels, and she was exceptionally thin with oddly sized breasts which had been bought, rather than naturally developed. Her friend, Misha, was near identical, however her eyes were an unusual burning hazel colour and her cheekbones were less pronounced. Her breasts, however, were noticeably larger, and she'd a tattoo snaking up her thigh for the whole world to see.

Jason had to wonder where Elliot had found these two women. Yes, The Grey children were all socialites by their own making. Mia was massive on social media and Elliot, although he had his own construction business, managed to make TMZ headlines on a near weekly basis due to his weekend escapades. Christian, though the richest, was the most settled of the three children.

"I think my wife is mad at me," Carrick said to Jason, causing Jason to look away from Christian and Nikita.

"You were ogling your son's plus ones, Sir," Jason pointed out.

"Everyone in the room is," Carrick chuckled, nodding to his sons and then his bodyguard, Michael, who was trying not to look distracted as Misha bent down to pick up her clutch bag, "I've no idea where Elliot finds these kinds of women. Last year he brought a German princess."

"A name like Grey gets you places," Jason shrugged, "Elliot comes across as being a real character."

"He is that," Carrick added, sipping his drink and shaking his head as he looked away from the younger women, "What about you? Have you got a wife?"

"Divorced," Jason told Carrick, turning away from the women, Christian and Elliot, and watching Carrick pull a plate of pretentious looking hor dourves from the fridge. Jason was glad that, as part of the Santa Monica Pier theme, there were burger stalls at this thing because he could devour that entire plate of garlic prawns and still need a hundred more to meet even half his body's calorie requirements.

"So you're single then?" Carrick pressed, looking back at Jason as he offered him the plate to graze on. He was quizzing him, Jason realised. Jason was certain that the damn lawyer was trying to find out what the true relationship was between Jason and his son. He'd bet any money.

"Technically," Jason nodded, playing his game and staring directly into Carrick's eye, "Why'd you ask?"

"You're the only one in the room that's not been ogling Elliot's guests," Carrick pressed politely, "I just wondered if that was because you were a married man or something."

"What's the 'or something' supposed to be?" Jason asked, crossing his arms over his chest and fixing him with that smirk which Christian despised.

"I don't know; maybe gay," Carrick said casually, but his eyes were too probing. He was looking for a reaction that Taylor wasn't prepared to give him.

"I don't like viewing women like slabs of meat," Jason stated firmly. Yeah, when he'd first seen the Russians, his mind went straight to sex. But that had been merely for a moment; he wasn't really interested in them, not in a physical way. The reality was he was more interested in Christian's interaction with them. He'd instantly felt a pang of jealousy that Nikita was getting to flirt with Christian publically, that she was able to attempt to seduce him, to touch his arm and giggle girlishly. Not that Jason would giggle like a girl; but he'd like the option. Watching her laugh and try and get Christian's interest was boiling his blood.

He was suddenly overwhelmed with a possessiveness over Christian which he'd never even experienced when he'd been with his damn wife. What the hell did that mean? Thank fuck Christian wasn't interested and barely making conversation because if he was, Jason wasn't sure if he'd be able to control his temper later if she was invited back to Escala.

"What about viewing men?" Carrick asked, Jason narrowing his eyes at him, "You seem to like looking at my son. You've got to understand that I'm protective of my children, especially Christian. I want to know he's not in danger or at risk of getting…hurt."

Jason frowned. That had shocked him. Was Carrick asking Jason if he was Christian's bodyguard? Or when he said 'hurt', did he mean in terms of emotions? Jason felt like he was being circled by a shark with all these questions and he didn't know what to answer.

Thankfully, Christian approached, grabbing a handful of prawns from his father, "Taylor, Nikita's off to the bathroom. Let's go outside to the party."

"I thought you were her date tonight, Christian?" Carrick frowned.

"She's not even close to my type," Christian admitted, looking back at Jason with those beautiful, heavenly, grey eyes, "Lets go. Quick."

Jason didn't need to be told twice, eager to get Christian away from the competition.


	30. Chapter 30

**WARNING; Rated M for future m/m and adult themes, this is not going to be a CG/Ana fic. It will be a CG/Taylor**

 ****Contains m/m lemon****

 **Chapter; 30.**

Christian couldn't believe the extravagance before him. Every year his mother and Carrick endeavoured to beat their previous Coping Together charity party, and every year that involved doing something more ridiculous and costly. This year Mom had actually managed to squeeze in a ferris-wheel as well as a miniature roller-coaster which was currently being well used by a group of the children Mom's charity supported. Of all the themes, Santa Monica Pier seemed the most silly in theory but, like always, she and Carrick had pulled it off wonderfully. Both he and Taylor walked under a large wooden sign. It was styled in a similar fashion to the one Christian remembered seeing in Santa Monica but instead it read;

Coping Together

*Bellevue Harbour*

*Auctions* Fairground Rides* Lets come together*

The ferris-wheel was lit up in beautiful bright oranges and purples, the neon colours really standing out against the darkening night sky. Christian stopped to watch it going round, each seat taken up by excited and slightly tipsy partiers. The roller coaster, too, was just as busy. Despite it not being as big as the one on the Pier itself, people were still squealing as they momentarily went upside down.

Taylor admitted that he was hungry so Christian went with him to a 'burger stall'. Of course this was his mother's party and so naturally the 'burgers' were overpriced gourmet steak with exotic seasonings and three different types of mature cheese, prepared from scratch before the buyer. Christian couldn't help but laugh when Taylor tried to order, smiling at the rougher male's frustrations.

"I don't need any of that fancy shit," Taylor growled, squeezing the bridge of his nose as the chef offered him, for what must have been the millionth time, garlic confit, avocado and black bean spread or the sriracha-soy mayo dressing.

"You don't want sautéed spinach and green beans?" the chef frowned, as though insulted that all Taylor wanted was a simple slab of meat on a bun.

"Pal, I don't even know what sautéed spinach is," Taylor laughed in disbelief, "Can't I just have a burger and fries?"

"We have baked asparagus, if Sir would prefer? They're prepared in exquisite-"

"Asparagus? Instead of fries?" Taylor frowned, waving his hand and looking at Christian for assistance, "Am I really being an ape here?"

"We also do a wonderful fried pineapple topping," the chef offered. Taylor face was a fucking picture; the audacity to place fruit on a steak.

"Is there a problem here, Christian?" mom asked, coming over as though she sensed a disturbance in the force. When Christian turned around he realised that both he and Taylor were causing a bit of a queue to develop, other party goers waiting patiently for their turn to order, "Hello Raul."

"Hello, Mrs Grey," the Chef, Raul, smiled politely, "This gentleman here is just struggling with his order."

"I'm not the one struggling here, pal. All I'm asking for is a piece of that meat, on a patty, with some fries, and a slather of ketchup," Taylor said, his face red with frustration. "I don't want your secret sauces, I don't want a hundred types of mouldy cheese and I absolutely do not want pineapple anywhere near my meat. Just steak, bun, ketchup."

Mom giggled behind her hand, smiling at Christian. She liked Taylor, Christian realised, watching her place a hand on the man's shoulder and attempting to soothe him.

"Sir, we do not have ketchup here. For the meat we offer, we feel it's too…primitive," Raul said, not bothering to mask his disgust at the mere notion.

"Raul, can you do Taylor a plain burger, nothing fancy, and I'll get him ketchup from the house," Mom smiled, linking into Taylor's arm, "Not everyone appreciates food that's as complex."

"Of course, Mrs Grey," Raul nodded, getting to work on Taylor's dinner.

"Make that two," Christian added, deciding to also get something to eat, smiling as he paid far too much for two fucking burgers after all that confusion.

"Thank you," Taylor said, looking down at mom and laughing, "I'm a little too working class for people like him."

"No, Raul's just overly passionate about the deliverance of his food. He forgets it's to be eaten; every burger is prepared as if it is a piece of artwork," Grace explained as she lead Taylor and Christian out of the queue to wait for their orders, "I'm glad you've come, Taylor. I feel like you'll keep at least one of my children out of trouble tonight."

"Taylor's not my babysitter," Christian pointed out, shaking his head at Taylor's smirking face. He grumbled and looked away.

"I'm not saying he's your baby sitter, Christian," Mom stated firmly, "I'm just commenting about what a calming influence Taylor has on you. I wish Elliot had a friend like you, Taylor."

"Where's Elliot just now?" Taylor asked curiously.

"With both those Russian women, on the rollercoaster," Mom grumbled, "I swear that boy makes his poor mother worry deliberately. I just want him to find a nice girl to settle down with. Is that too much to ask?"

"Elliot wont settle down till they put is body to rest," Christian said, "He's the first to admit he'll be groping the nurses in his care home when he's in his eighties."

"He better not," Grace growled, "Or I'll haunt him."

Raul called Christian up to collect his and Taylor's dinner, mom excusing herself to continue socialising with her guests and have a shot at one of the faire ground stalls. Both he and Taylor headed back to the main house to get ketchup from the kitchen, Taylor using nearly the whole bottle over his steak burger.

"Really?" Christian laughed, raising an eyebrow, "You do know that stuff's full of sugar, right?"

"So?" Taylor said before freezing, looking over Christian's head and out the window towards the garden, "Nikita's coming this way."

"Shit, has she seen us?" Christian winced.

"Not yet," Taylor said, grabbing Christian's hand and pulling him from the kitchen and back into the hallway out of sight just as the Kitchen patio doors opened.

"Christian?" Nikita called, "Mr Christian? The auction is to be starting soon, Christian?"

Christian winced and shook his head at Taylor before taking a firm hold of his hand again and leading him towards the stairs. Carefully and with stealth, the pair escaped to the top floor of the house, Christian opening the door to his old bedroom slowly and quietly, closing it behind them and locking the door from the inside.

"That was close," Christian sighed, shaking his head as he leant against the door and watched Taylor explore his bedroom.

"Huh," Taylor said, looking around, "Is this your room?"

Christian took a seat on his bed and watched Taylor studying Christian's photos curiously, his eyes lingering on the photo of himself, Elliot and Mia visiting the Eiffel tower when they were all just youngsters.

"Yes," Christian admitted, "A long time ago."

"It's about the size of my whole home when I was young," Taylor admitted with a laugh, reading one of Christian's framed fight playbills, "But I suppose that's trailer living for you."

"I guess it is," Christian shrugged, wincing when Taylor spotted his single photo of his biological mother, the crack whore. He bit his lip, Taylor silently studying the image. However he never asked Christian who she was. He knew with just one look back to Christian who that woman in that photo was to him.

"Mind if I eat my dinner in here?" Taylor asked instead, cocking an eyebrow at Christian as though silently letting him know he wasn't going to ask any questions, "I'm starving."

Christian felt himself relax and loosen up, having becoming unbelievably tense the moment he noticed Taylor looking at the photo of his biological mom.

"Sure," he nodded, picking up his own dinner as Taylor sat beside him on his bed, "Just don't get any ketchup on the sheets."

"As if I'd waste a drop of Ketchup," Taylor smirked, "It's the nectar of the gods."

"The nectar of diabetes," Christian teased, taking a bite of his own plain burger, "After all that trouble…Gail's burgers taste better."

"I reckon eating the cow alive would taste better than this shit," Taylor sighed, taking another bite regardless, "We're hitting up a McDonalds or something on the way home. You rich types don't eat anywhere near enough calories."

"We can't all eat hundreds of calories like you," Christian pointed out, "Since Gail moved out and you started cooking I've put on so much weight, I can't bend down in these trousers."

"You've not put on weight, you've gained the weight you'd lost feeling anxious. A man your size shouldn't be a waist 28," Taylor shrugged, "You're healthier. Besides, those trousers look good on you now. Less baggy at the ass."

"Have you been checking out my ass?" Christian challenged, Taylor choking on that goddamn burger.

"I, uh," he coughed and shook his head, "You pay me to watch you. It's an observation," he stuttered weakly, staring at his feet, "You've been looking a lot better since when I first met you."

"I feel better," Christian admitted, "I feel safer, less lonely. I feel like myself again, you know? Before I was a shell of who I was. I feel back in control again."

"I'm glad," Taylor said and looked back up at Christian again, fixing him with a nice smile rather than that annoying smirk, "You deserve to feel like that. Glad to help."

Christian sighed, staring at the man before him. He was rugged as hell, his nose was squint, his forehead was wrinkled with frown lines and his eyes were a murky colour that never seemed the same each day, but Christian wanted him. He was just so fucking perfect to Christian. Sure, Nikita was hot as hell, anyone in the room could see she was sex personified but the fact of the matter was, she wasn't Christian's usual type. And even if she was, it was Taylor he wanted.

"Taylor," Christian started, staring into the man's eyes, "I think we need to-"

Taylor leant forward and pressed his lips to Christian's, capturing them in a slow, intrepid kiss. Christian was shocked and barely registered what was happening until Taylor cupped his cheek in one of his large hands and caressed him with his thumb.

When they parted, their foreheads pressed together, Taylor's dark eyes staring hungrily into Christian's.

"Are you sure?" Christian mumbled, his tongue licking Taylor's upper lip slightly as he spoke, "Because I'm not going to be able to stop myself if we start this."

Taylor groaned, bringing his lips right bang on Christian's again in a wanton kiss, "Then don't stop."

Christian grabbed Taylor by the neck and pulled him tight against him, their lips smacking together hungrily as they fought for dominance. Taylor's hand left his cheek and he grabbed Christian's ass firmly before running his hands up the back of Christian's dinner jacket, nearly ripping it off his back. He threw it somewhere, Christian didn't care where, helping Taylor's fingers by undoing his tie whilst his bodyguard began on the buttons of his shirt.

"Fuck me," Christian groaned as Taylor's mouth latched onto his neck and began to bite it hungrily whilst his hands did their best to keep undressing Christian. All the while, Taylor seemed to manage to grind against him as if he was too eager to wait to be unclothed himself for Christian's touch. Who said men couldn't multitask? Christian thought, finding himself topless with Taylor's lips on his exposed collar bone, the man's body partially on top of his. When he looked up at Christian, his murky eyes were alive and wild, his lips swollen from Christian biting them.

"Get on your knees, Marine," Christian ordered, Taylor sitting up from his current position and getting to his knees on the floor front of the bed, like commanded. Christian sat at the edge of the mattress in front of him, unfastening his suit pants and pulling out his poor, restrained dick.

He placed a hand under Taylor's jaw and forced him to look up at Christian, "I want you to suck me, Taylor. And if you do a good job, I'll reward you."

"Yes sir," Taylor responded, his voice a low rumble of need. He licked his lips before wrapping them around Christian's large cock, sucking with vigour, wanting to please Christian enough for a reward.

Christian groaned, his hands taking hold of the bedsheets as Taylor worked, making slurping noises with every bop of his head.

"That's good, Taylor," he mumbled, and then took his hand to place it on Christian's balls. He looked down and watched as Taylor made eye contact as he began rubbing his balls.

It was beyond hot, watching him sucking his dick like that with saliva all down his chin. He was confident, not as shy and anxious as he would usually be which was fantastic to Christian. After all, the guy might not have given many blow jobs in his past but Christian was sure he'd received enough to know what was hot and what worked.

"Fuck yes," Christian panted, Taylor using his hand to stroke the base of Christian's dick which stood no chance in getting sucked given his length, "Like that, Taylor, urgh I'm very pleased with you. Yes."

He was close and it was so fucking tempting to finish on Taylor's handsome face, but he didn't want that; Taylor was on his best behaviour, sucking Christian like commanded, and so he deserved his reward.

"Get undressed," Christian ordered, standing up and pulling his trousers down, chucking them in the heap alongside his shirt, blazer and tie. He rummaged in his cupboard and found a bottle of KY jelly from years ago. He cracked open the lid and inspected it with his nose and then his fingers, deciding it was still good. Or at least he was incredibly horny and didn't care what they used, so long as he got to cum. He then went to his wallet and pulled out the condom he always made a point of keeping on his person.

When he turned around, Taylor had completely stripped, his own dick hard as hell and incredibly swollen. Christian felt it twitch in agony the moment he took a hold of it and slowly jerked him off.

"Sir, please," Taylor begged, biting Christian's ear, "I need to cum, Sir."

"We can't make too much mess," Christian whispered, tearing the condom wrapper open with his teeth before separating from Taylor enough that he could reach between them and put the condom on him, "Sorry."

"That's fine," Taylor growled lustfully, grabbing Christian by his hips and pushing him back on the bed. He climbed on top of him and took the bottle of lube, squeezing a large amount on his hand and applying it to Christian's ass, inserting one and then two fingers until everything felt slick and wet. He bit Christian's shoulder as he guided himself into him, groaning lowly, "Fuck, you're tight," he muttered, "Damn, you'll having me cum in seconds."

"You say the best things," Christian laughed, wrapping his arms around Taylor's neck and pulling him in for another hungry kiss, his feet locking behind Taylor's ass, "Taylor," he huffed when the man had yet to move, frustrating Christian, "Why the fuck aren't you moving?"

"I'm waiting for permission, sir," Taylor admitted through gritted teeth, "May I please fuck you, Sir?"

"Yes," Christian nodded eagerly, Taking Taylor's hands when they accidently slipped up to his chest, placing them on the headboard instead, "I give you permission to make me cum, Taylor," he instructed, his hand around his own dick as he pumped in time to Taylor's hips, "Fuck, yes," he moaned.

"I'm close, Sir," Taylor informed him with a pant, using the headboard to steady himself as he thrust, "Fuck, I'm close."

"Me too," Christian gasped, "Of fuck, me too. Cum for me, Taylor. I want to see you cum."

Taylor groaned, dropping his hands from the headboard and hooking them under Christian's shoulders as he picked up his pace and began to frantically work his hips against Christian, chasing his orgasm with Christian's permission to finish.

"Fu-urgh," he gasped and groaned, shuddering as he fell apart above Christian, his lips open as he trembled. The sight was enough to tip Christian over the edge. He groaned and looked up at Taylor.

"I'm going to cum," he moaned, pumping his hand. Taylor panted before pulling himself out of Christian's ass, sliding down his body and taking Christian's burning cock into his mouth, "Tay-oh fuck-Taylor, I'm gonna, shit, urgh," he moaned fucking Taylor's mouth before cuming hard.

Taylor made a slight choking sound but swallow and god damn Christian wished he caught the moment on camera as Taylor continued to suck and lick Christian until it was too sensitive for him to continue.

"Taylor…fuck…" he panted, the big marine flopping down beside him on the bed, licking his lips and wiping the residue from his chin, "I can't believe you let me do that," Christian laughed, "Fuck, I've wanted to do that for so fucking long."

"Honestly? Me too," Taylor gasped, "Tastes fucking disgusting though," he admitted with a laugh when Christian hit him.

"Everything that's not ketchup tastes disgusting to you," Christian commented, watching as Taylor stood and entered Christian's little ensuite to remove the condom with some toilet tissue. Christian watched him for a moment and then cursed, realising what the time was on his watch, "We've missed the auction."

"Is that a bad thing?" Taylor laughed, washing his hands, "Doesn't feel like a bad thing to me."

"Nah, I don't think it was a bad thing," Christian chuckled, sitting up and starting to put himself back together. That's when he noticed Taylor still had his socks on, "Creep," he teased, nodding at his feet, "We just had sex and you're wearing socks."

"So? I just swallowed your cum," Taylor rebottled, starting to get dressed too before grabbing another bite of his dinner, "Will we have been missed?"

"Probably not," Christian said, slapping Taylor's ass as he passed to get his shoes, "You're the first person I've ever brought here for sex," he said, kissing him lightly.

"Ah so your brought me here? It was all a cunning plan," Taylor teased, biting his lip before finishing getting dressed, "It's after nine," he whistled.

"I know," Christian nodded, running his eye over Taylor, "You look perfect."

"So do you," Taylor replied, "Absolutely haven't just had sex in your parent's house."

"When you say it like that, it sounds bad," Christian laughed, unlocking the door, "Come on. Lets get back to the party."

They'd missed the auction but that wasn't a hardship to Christian. He wasn't interested in bidding on dances with women, particularly when he'd been getting laid instead. It seemed like a no brainer as to what he'd rather be doing.

It had reached that point in the night, however, where most of the guests were inebriated and the younger members of the party had left or were on their way to leaving. All who remained were the adults, the party becoming that little more mature as trays of hor d'oeuvres were replaced with shots, cocktails and glasses of prosecco. A DJ was now playing also, a tiled dancefloor having been set up where once the tables for the auction had sat in the marque.

"I hear Right Said Fred," Christian chuckled and, sure enough, Elliot was up on the dancefloor with both Russian women beside him, busting his usual moves.

"I'm too sexy for my shirt, so sexy it hurts," Elliot sung along with the DJ, arms and legs flailing as he bust moves/splashed around like a fish out of water.

Christian caught Taylor smirking at his brother, leading him away before Elliot spotted Christian in the audience and dragged him up onto the dancefloor, "Elliot's pissed," Christian explained.

"Naaaaah, really?" Taylor commented sarcastically as they re-entered the 'pier', the rides still as popular as they'd been before Christian and Taylor disappeared to the bedroom, "Here's me thinking that's normal behaviour."

"Come on, Smart Ass, let's go on the Ferris-wheel. We'll get a good view," Christian said as he walked towards it. There wasn't as big a queue for the wheel as there was for the rollercoaster so they found themselves in the front in no time.

Taylor took the seat closest to the wheel structure itself, Christian sitting beside him. The ride operator smiled at them both as he pulled down the barrier restraint and said, "Don't rock it too much, boys."

"You okay with this?" Christian asked before they actually started to move.

"Yeah," Taylor nodded, "Michael's got more security working tonight than we have troops on the ground," he said, "Nothing's going to happen to you."

"Good," Christian replied and then laughed, "But I meant in terms of this ride being high. You're okay with heights, yeah?"

"I'm fine with heights," Taylor answered with a snort, "I'm a marine, after all. Heights are nothing to me."

"Just making sure," Christian laughed as the ride began to move slowly.

They were practically at the top when the ride decided to come to a rickety stop, the engineer below them yelling that all was okay, and that things would get moving in a minute or so, so not to panic.

The view from this angle, however, was truly phenomenal, Christian thought and he was in no hurry to get moving again. He'd always loved being high up, above the hurtful and scary world. In fact as a child he'd always wanted to become a commercial pilot but he'd lacked the grades and discipline straight out of high school. Maybe once everything had settled down in terms of the business and also the death threats, he could maybe look at getting flying lessons. After all, he'd the money for it and he'd always had the passion. Christian just didn't have the academic documentation behind him to get into an aviation program that would let him become a pilot of bigger planes.

"Shit," Taylor muttered, turning around in his seat and grabbing the bar over their legs.

"Didn't you hear the guy? It'll be fixed in a minute or two. Just enjoy the view," Christian instructed, pointing out in front of them, "Look, I see the boathouse."

Taylor nodded, but Christian noticed he was agitated and unsettled for someone who usually was so stoic and calm.

"What's wrong with you?" Christian asked after another moment of his fidgeting, "I thought you said you didn't mind heights?"

"I'm fine," Taylor snapped, pulling at the bar in frustration before letting out a curse and looking down to the ground, "What are they doing down there?"

"You're clearly not fine," Christian shrugged at him, looking down as the engineers hurried to fix whatever technical glitch they were challenged with, "But whatever."

Taylor growled lowly, shaking his head, "I'm not...good...when I feel trapped," he admitted through gritted teeth, his hands rubbing together firmly.

"You're a claustrophobic?" Christian asked, placing his hand on Taylor's knee, "Shit, okay. Don't panic."

"You know what helps someone not panic? Being told not to panic." Taylor said sarcastically, pulling at the bar over their lap again, as if he were trying to desperately get some space between himself and the bar, "Fucking great."

"You're trembling," Christian noted, realising Taylor was really panicking. Mia suffered from panic attacks ever since she was bullied in high school so Christian was well versed on the symptoms and Taylor was displaying a couple; sweating, trembling, breathing quicker than normal, "You're okay," he tried, "Close your eyes. We're together, back in that lake in Oregon."

Taylor closed his eyes and covered his face, "Okay."

"We're alone, it's just us in our underwear again," Christian described, "The water's freezing and you've just told me there's some stupid fish that can swim up your dick."

"A Candiru," Taylor said, closing his eyes tightly.

"Yes, one of those," Christian chuckled, being jarred forward as the ferris wheel began moving once more, "You look so handsome, all wet. Even if it's freezing."

"You look amazing too," Taylor replied, "You're boxer trunks were wet and clinging to your body. You looked like an Adonis."

"You really say the sweetest things," Christian replied, sitting straight as they neared the end of the ride, thank fuck, "Can you get the bar up please?" he called out to an engineer.

"Thank fuck," Taylor mumbled as they were finally freed, Christian standing up first before helping Taylor onto his unsteady feet. "I'm okay," he lied, still trembling.

"Are you two okay?" Mia called, waving them both over, "I saw the Wheel break with you on it; I got some really good photos of you both though," she smiled then frowned, studying Taylor's ashen face, "Taylor, you look sick."

"He's claustrophobic," Christian explained as the three of them walked back to the house, avoiding the crowds to give Taylor a reprieve, "He'll be okay though. Just had a near panic attack up there."

Taylor didn't deny this, instead walking away from Christian and Mia and breathing in the cooling night air before they entered the kitchen. He sat down by the table, letting Christian slacken his tie for him and unbutton the top of his shirt.

"Want one of my benzodiazepines, Taylor?" Mia asked with concern, placing her hand on Taylor's shoulder comfortingly once she'd taken off his dinner jacket, "I have General Anxiety Disorder, so I know how horrible moments like this are."

"I can't," Taylor replied, taking a glass of water from Christian and taking a cold drink.

"I can drive us back home," Christian volunteered, wanting Taylor better, "Or we can stay here tonight?"

Taylor squirmed and shook his head, "Thank you but I really can't take them. I suffer…negative symptoms. This will all pass. I promise," he fixed both Christian and Mia with a weak smile, "Honest. Thank you for your concern."

Christian sighed, shaking his head and sitting beside Taylor, secretly glad that he had an excuse to now escape the party as the other guests began to become even more drunk.

Eventually, it was time to go home. Mom, Mia and Michael walked both Taylor and Christian to the Audi, Elliot having disappeared to the boat house with one of the Russians and Carrick passed out in the family's main bathroom upstairs.

"Thank you for coming, Taylor," Mom said, hugging him tightly, "I'm sorry you began feeling poorly; I hope it wasn't the burger after all that hassle."

Taylor laughed, "I'm fine now, Mrs Grey," he reassured, smiling weakly.

"I'm glad. Thank you for coming," Mom repeated before grabbing Christian tightly and kissing him right on the cheek. She smelt of wine, Christian noted, kissing her back before embracing Mia.

"Love you, ladies," Christian called, jumping into the passenger side of the Audi and relaxing into the seat once the door was closed, "Thank god. I'm so glad that's all over with for another year," he said, kicking off his oxfords and relaxing, "Back to normality."

"Normality indeed," Taylor replied with a nod before lapsing into silence as they headed back to the city. Christian watched him through the darkness of the car, studying his stern face as they drove.

"Taylor?" Christian called after five minutes of just watching his bodyguard curiously.

"Yes, Christian?" he replied, eyes never leaving the road.

"Earlier, when you said 'negative symptoms,' to taking benzodiazepines," Christian echoed, looking at Taylor with a soft expression, "What did you mean?"

Taylor clicked his tongue for a moment, "I...uh," he started but just shrugged and looked forward, "We're almost at Escala."

"Is it a Detroit thing?" Christian pressed, remembering how Taylor had hinted to struggling in the past with substance misuse around the same age Christian was when he was struggling with his anger, "You don't have to answer," he added as they pulled into Escala's underground parking lot, "I'm just curious."

"Why can't I touch your chest?" Taylor challenged as they parked, turning to look at Christian with a furious expression, "I don't pry into your past life. Stop prying into mine."

Christian stared at him, gobsmacked. Taylor did his security ritual before coming round and opening Christian's door for him, "What? Aren't you coming?" he huffed in frustration.

"The only reason I've not punched you just now, Taylor, is because I know you're still on edge," Christian growled, "But there's no reason to be a fucking asshole to me. I'm only asking out of concern."

"There's nothing to be concerned about," Taylor snapped, shaking his head, "It's my past life, Christian. I don't ask you about yours. I could have; I know that picture in your room was your mother. But I never asked you probing questions because I respect and trust you. I know that if you want to talk about it, you would. Please, respect me in a similar way. It's too hard to talk about with someone like you."

"Someone like me?" Christian echoed, "What do you mean 'someone like me'? We're not about to start arguing about you being 'different' to me again, are we? Because I really can't be bothered tonight."

"No, I don't mean it like that," Taylor huffed, shaking his head before looking at Christian, "Jesus Christ, I mean someone I really respect. I can't describe it, Christian, but I want to be the best man I can for you. And I am the best; I'm the best at what I do for a living. And that's what I want you to know me as; the best version of myself."

Christian stared at Taylor as he spoke, seeing the confliction in his murky eyes. He sighed and kissed Taylor's forehead softly, wanting to reassure him that Christian understood what he was trying to explain, "I'm sorry," he told him, taking hold of his hand once he finally climbed out of the Audi.

"I'm sorry too," Taylor sighed, locking their fingers together, "Lets head upstairs; I'll cook us some supper."

Christian laughed weakly as they walked towards the elevator together, "I swear all you think about is food and ketchup."

"I mean, you're right but it's not _all_ I think about," Taylor chuckled, kissing Christian deeply as the elevator doors slid closed.

 ****Thank you all for your follows, favourites and reviews. They are really appreciated and what gives me the motivation to continue this story. Next chapter; death threats galore. ****


	31. Chapter 31

**WARNING; Rated M for future m/m and adult themes, this is not going to be a CG/Ana fic. It will be a CG/Taylor** **.**

 **Next chapter hopefully uploaded today with more on the investigation. First, tough conversation. This fanfic is inspired by OneRepublic's Let's Hurt Tonight. I recently refound the song on my music library and so opted for having this chapter now. I also love the Smiths, as pointed out by one reviewer. Thank you all for sticking with me during times of chapter hiatus.**

 **Warning; CG's childhood angst, JT's angst, fluff and lemon.**

 **Chapter 31.**

Christian was super strong.

Christian was super fast.

Christian was super smart.

Christian was super good.

Christian was a super hero. Running down the hallway of his and mommy's house, he defeated all the bad guys with a punch. And then a kick. And then a headbutt. And then another punch. And another. And another.

"What're you doin'?" Mommy slurred, looking up from where she was lying on the floor. After Micky visited, Mommy was always very, very sleepy. Christian sometimes found her lying in funny positions. One time her head was touching the floor because she'd completely folded in half like a birthday card. Sometimes she snored too loudly and Christian had to shoogle her when she did this because it was a scary grunting noise like a monster that she made.

Christian looked at mommy, not sure what to say. He didn't really speak often, he wasn't normally aloud to make noise. Just be very, very quiet. Christian was good at being very, very quiet.

Christian pointed to his cape; a towel he'd tucked into his t-shirt. "My's… um… be'd superman," he tried to say. Mommy looked at him with unfocused eyes that rolled back into her head.

"Whatever," she mumbled and began to cough loudly and deeply, a horrible rattling noise, "Quiet."

Christian nodded and silently kicked and punched now since he wasn't allowed to make sound effects. It was hard to make the moves however because mommy hadn't changed his diaper yet and it had been a while now and it was starting to itch again. Maybe when she woke up, she'd change him? He hoped so. He was starting to get embarrassed about it because it wasn't nice and it was icky.

He sighed and waddled over to mommy and studied her curiously. She was very pretty, Christian thought, even though her skin was spotty and she had a missing tooth. Christian had missing teeth too, so he liked being the same as her. She had brown hair but it looked wet though Christian couldn't remember a time she'd ever used a bathtub before. Christian liked baths but he didn't get them often. Sometimes he did if mommy needed to see her friends for money.

Beside mommy on the floor were her Dirties; long pointy sharp things that Christian had seen Doctors use when mommy took him once. Three were lying in a perfect line but Christian couldn't count them. Someday he'd like to learn to count. Mommy could count money. Christian wanted to do that too.

He never played with Dirties because they were for adults; mommy used them to put Spoon Stuff into her arms and legs; but looking at them now, Christian noticed one had something in it. Slowly, he picked it up and studied the brown-ish liquid it held and wondered what it was. He touched the top part of the Dirty and giggled as he pushed down on it, causing the liquid to spirt out onto the carpet. It was funny, like when he peed with no diaper on. He giggled again and kept pushing the plunger.

A hand slapped him hard and Christian yelped, dropping the Dirty. He tried to step back but tripped on his cape, falling onto his messy diaper.

"Don't you touch that!" Mommy screamed in Christian's face, her shaking hands picking up the Dirty and screaming, "No! What've you done?! What have you done, you little shit?!"

Christian hadn't ever seen his mommy this angry, scrambling to his feet and trying to run as fast as he could, but mommy caught him. Mommy caught his little foot and dragged him back to her.

"You little shit, you fucking idiot! That's mommy's medicine! I should never have had you!"

With every word, mommy's hand struck Christian's body. He tried to squirm away but she wouldn't let him. He didn't know how to say sorry, he'd never learnt the word, but he didn't mean to make mommy so angry. He didn't mean to upset her. And he was crying loudly because his mommy was hurting him and he was scared and he was peeing again and he was screaming.

"I hate you! I hate you! I hate you!"

* * *

"Christian, wake up," Taylor cooed, "Christian, wake up it's just a dream. Christ-shit! Ow."

Christian felt his fist hit Taylor's jaw, his eyes snapping open and his breathing wild and erratic. He spotted Taylor sitting up in bed, rubbing his jaw tenderly in the dim light of his lamp and reality finally set in.

"Taylor. I'm sor-"

"Don't apologise," Taylor said firmly, moving his jaw from left to right, "It was a dream; I deserved that," he laughed, shaking his head, "It'll bruise though. Think people will believe me if I say I was saving an old lady from a biker gang?"

He was trying to make a joke and lessen Christian's guilt but it wasn't working. He couldn't believe he'd lashed out and hurt Taylor, when the poor guy was trying to help rouse Christian.

"I'm so sorry," Christian said, despite Taylor, shaking his head when the bigger man went to chastise him, "No, I hit you, I'm sorry. I'm-" he stopped and then grimaced, feeling a damp sensation around his groin. Oh no.

"Don't," Taylor said firmly, a hand placed directly over Christian's lips, "don't you dare apologise for that. I mean it. If you do, we'll have a serious problem on our hands." He said, rolling out of bed and stretching his arms, "Gail put waterproof protector on the mattress. There's no fuss. Go shower and clean yourself up. I'll sort this."

"Taylor, I pissed the bed with you in it," Christian snapped as he got out of bed and pulled off his wet boxers, "That's not okay. None of the last ten minutes is okay! Stop being okay!"

"What do you want me to be? Angry? Disgusted? Upset?" Taylor snorted and shook his head, "Because I'm none of those things. I'm empathetic. I know how shitty nightmares can be," he was about to pull of the sheets when he paused and turned to look at Christian directly, "Do, uh, you want to talk about it?"

"No,"

"Thought so," Taylor stated as he pulled the soiled sheets off the bed and bundled them up. Again, however, he stopped and looked at Christian again, "You should, you know, talk about it though. It might, uh, help or something."

Christian could tell Taylor wasn't used to having this talk. Christian could imagine that the man had woken himself from some terrible nightmares beside his ex-wife, resulting in her attempting to get him to talk about whatever issues were haunting him. Christian was positive that Taylor had refused to talk to her, the man was a bare minimal communicator after all. So it was hypocritical for him to even attempt to have Christian speak his traumas out loud.

"You didn't take my sister's medication when you'd that panic attack earlier," Christian pointed out, seeing the niceness in Taylor's eyes vanish, "You said that's because you'd get _'negative symptoms'_. When I asked you to elaborate you were a total prick in the car. I'm not talking about my shit if you're not talking about yours."

"That's different," Taylor snapped, shaking his head as he scooped up the sheets and Christian's boxers, storming out the room.

"How is it different?" Christian demanded, pointing directly at Taylor, "Don't try and encourage me to talk my shit out loud if you wont talk about yours. You've no right."

"The difference between me not talking and you not talking is that I don't have someone sending me death threats. I don't have someone stalking me. I don't have to run a billion dollar company. I don't have the entire world looking at me to be okay because I'm the economy's salvation," Taylor said calmly but firmly, closing the washing machine and switching it on, "I'm not under the level of stress you are. If you don't talk about what you're feeling then you're going to end up killing yourself with the stress you're under."

"Oh, and I suppose you're the expert on the Talking Cure?" Christian hissed, no idea why he was deliberately being nasty to Taylor. He understood exactly what Taylor was saying, however that didn't make it any easier. Christian was too afraid to talk about it; fuck knows it was hard enough communicating with Flynn.

"Just go take a fucking shower, Christian," Taylor huffed in defeat. He shook his head in dismissal as he got up and made himself a coffee. He didn't make any attempt to communicate with Christian after that, ignoring him as he went to shower.

As he washed, Christian cursed himself and his temper. He knew he shouldn't have snapped at Taylor and he knew that the man was right; Christian should maybe speak about the traumas that haunt him. But how?

When he finished showering, he studied himself in the mirror and cursed himself again. He felt himself again, his pulse no longer racing and his mind wasn't clogged with memories of needles and heroin and starvation, poverty, filth. It was amazing how having a shower could purge himself of the dirty past. It wasn't until he was with Grace and Carrick that Christian had been able to bathe on a near daily basis. He still remembered his first shower and the delight he'd experienced within it. Grace often reminded him how he'd refused to leave the tub and insisted on playing with his new toys in there for nearly an hour before Carrick coaxed him out with chocolate.

Stepping out of the en suite, he found Taylor sitting on the freshly made bed, watching him like a hurt puppy.

"I'm sorry," Christian said first, "I'm sorry I snapped like that. I was out of line."

Taylor looked up at him with an unreadable expression that made Christian feel nervous. He was worried that he'd said too much tonight and Taylor had had enough; that he was going to leave. The thought of being alone was like a vice grip around Christian's throat; he couldn't be alone again. Taylor couldn't leave him.

"We each get to ask the other a question," Taylor said softly, averting his eyes from Christian. "Just one. And we answer honestly. Agreed?"

A bargain was not what Christian expected but the opportunity to learn something about Jason Taylor was priceless. The man knew nearly everything about Christian but Christian didn't know a thing about him.

"I can ask you anything…and you'll answer me honestly?" Christian pressed, crossing his arms over his bare chest.

"Yes," Taylor nodded with a sigh, looking up at Christian then, "But the same applies to you. However, I can't tell you about my ex or daughter. Both are off limits for their security and yours."

"Deal," Christian replied and held out his hand for Taylor to shake before he sat down on the bed beside him. If he sat beside him, they wouldn't be able to look at each other during their answers and that level of privacy made all the difference to Christian.

"Your nightmares," Taylor said slowly, thinking of how he was going to word his question, Christian was sure. However the mere mention of the nightmares made Christian's stomach churn and his body tense in fear. For the briefest of seconds, he no longer saw himself in his large bedroom beside Taylor, in Seattle. He was instead back in Detroit, in his birth mother's dilapidated flat, surrounded by needles and cooking pots, lighters and tinfoil decorating the floor where he walked.

"Yes," Christian nodded, letting Taylor know to continue.

"I know your nightmares are flashbacks of trauma," he stated and turned to look at Christian, bringing his hand up to Christian's chest and hovering his hand over the little cigarette burns that marred his skin, "Who gave you these cigarette burns?"

Christian nearly fell forward, utterly shocked that that was what Taylor wanted to know. That it was these marks, not the nightmares, not the bedwetting, not the goddamn death of his junkie mother. The cigarette burns. Christian felt tricked by Taylor, betrayed even. How dare he ask him about those?!

Christian swallowed back his hatred and anger, sat on the hands which wanted to punch the man who was making him relive such a painful, horrible, constant reminder of the abuse he'd endured.

"My mother's friend, Micky. She fucked for money. He took that money to dealers and they shared whatever they could afford," Christian admitted through gritted teeth, "He was…he got off frightening children, he was sick. He used to stub out his cigarettes on my chest for pleasure I'm sure."

Taylor studied Christian's chest, Christian watching his upper lip twisting into a snarl and his eyes narrowed with fury. The sight was actually terrifying; he'd never seen Taylor express such emotion before over anything, but the confirmation that Christian had been burnt seemed to have ignited a hatred in him. It soothed Christian if he was being honest. When Taylor first asked, he wanted to attack the man but seeing him this angry was of comfort to Christian. He didn't pity Christian; he was angry at Micky.

"Do you know his last name?" Taylor asked next, breaking the rule with a double question, hands in burning fists.

Christian answered anyway, "Just Micky," he said with a shake of his head, "He must have lived close to us."

"I'll find him," Taylor swore, "And I will kill him."

"It's my past, Taylor," Christian insisted with a shake of his head, "And anyway if I saw him, I'd kill him first," he tried to joke but Taylor merely grunted his displeasure. "Right, my question now," he said, wanting to distract him.

Taylor noticeably braced, staring down at the floor. There was so much about this man that Christian wanted to learn about; his past, his thoughts and feelings, his hopes and aspirations…he wanted to know everything and it just didn't seem fair that he was only allowed one question.

"Your sister," Christian said and heard Taylor curse lowly as he looked in completely the opposite direction to Christian.

"I wasn't expecting you to ask about Sophia," Taylor admitted and laughed, standing up with a shake of the head and walking over to the bedroom window, "I was expecting you to ask about the drug thing, maybe my scars, or something about my time in Detroit."

"Whenever you've mentioned her, there's a wistful look about you. I know she meant a lot to you," Christian explained, "I just wondered…how'd she die?"

"She," Taylor started, biting his lip, "she was crushed when the hospital she worked in collapsed," he said matter-of-factly, devoid of emotion, "She was a midwife to trade but volunteered in…the Middle East. Sorry, I can't give you the exact country. Just for my family's safety," he added, offering Christian a smile which completely contrasted his harrowing admission.

"Holy shit, I, fuck," Christian stammered and choked, shaking his head, "Jesus, I wasn't expecting that. Fuck. I mean, I'm so sorry."

"We were twins," Taylor added, "The building's foundations were substandard so a single missile attack was all it took to…" he clapped his hands together and Christian felt sick. Missile attack? Crushed?

"And that's why you're claustrophobic," Christian guessed, leaning against the threshold of the door.

Taylor shrugged, "I don't know," he admitted, "I mean, I grew up in a trailer and then a homeless shelter; I was never bothered before. Just the last few years so…maybe?"

"Didn't you ever go to therapy?" Christian pressed.

Taylor snorted and countered; "Did you?"

"Yes. I've seen seventeen different medical professionals about my childhood. This new guy, Flynn, is the one I've had the longest relationship with," Christian stated, Taylor nodding, "So yeah, I've entered different therapies, tried different medications too."

"Well I've never," Taylor said, "And I don't want to. I don't need it. When Sophia died-"

"You probably went on a drug bender for a week," Christian interrupted, seeing Taylor's arrogant smirk creeping on his face as he studied Christian with amusement, "Not exactly a healthy coping mechanism, is it?"

"No, probably not," Taylor sighed, looking up at Christian, "Please, come here."

Christian walked into Taylor's open arms, sitting on the man's knee and leaning against his chest. Taylor, in return, wrapped his arms around Christian, being careful not to touch his sensitive burn marks. It felt right and safe.

"I," Taylor started but then seemed to hesitate and lapsed into silence for a moment, just holding Christian. Christian sighed and wrapped his arm around Taylor's neck, pulling his face into his bare chest despite his scars. Taylor wouldn't hurt him, he now understood how sensitive Christian was about his battle torn body and the effort it took for him to suppress his anxieties and let Taylor cuddle in. Together, they sat in silence and enjoyed each other's embrace.

"When they find the guy threatening me," Christian finally said softly, Taylor's hand caressing the small of his back, "you'll leave me."

"I have to go," Taylor corrected him, kissing Christian's collarbone softly before cuddling in once more, "I have to."

"Would you stay?"

"And do what with myself?" Taylor asked with a chuckle, "You're such a control freak, I don't think you'd cope not knowing where I was, if I was even alive. And if I stopped doing what I'm doing right now, I can't exactly go into any job I want. Not with a skillset like mine."

"Of course you coul-"

"Sharpshooter, munitions expert," Taylor interrupted, "Warfare Strategist, Hand-to-hand combat, professional thief, burglar and smuggler, persuasive interrogator…assassin," he listed then shrugged, "Tell me where I'd fit into Grey House."

Christian felt his chest tighten. When he didn't answer straight away, Taylor tightened his hold on Christian which confirmed to him that Taylor didn't want to leave him. He wanted to stay, deep down underneath all the bravado. He didn't want to leave Escala.

"What if I offered you a fulltime contract to be my permanent bodyguard?" Christian asked, "Would you take it?"

"No," Taylor insisted, "I can't. When this guy is caught, I'm going, Christian. I've made enemies who would mutilate you to hurt me, if they found out I was…with you," Christian felt Taylor frown when he said 'with you', as though he wasn't quite sure what they were. If Christian was honest, neither was he. Taylor refused to be a submissive though evidently enjoyed being bossed around; he wasn't allowing himself to go into the Playroom until Christian's antagonist was caught because he couldn't be restrained for safety purposes.

Their relationship was definitely no longer strictly professional, either. Were they boyfriends? Christian didn't know and, if he was honest, he was too afraid of the rejection if he asked Taylor. He'd come to learn a lot about the man's mannerisms and knew that labelling themselves as a couple would push him away.

"I don't want you to go," Christian said firmly as he also tightened his grasp on Taylor, "I want you to stay with me. But I wont beg you."

Taylor leant up and lightly kissed under Christian's jaw, sighing deeply against the skin, "I…" he shook his head again, stopping himself from saying whatever was on the tip of his tongue, "I've fucked this whole situation up."

"We've both fucked it up," Christian corrected, "And we're both going to be hurt in the end. But, until then," he lightly pressed his lips to Taylor's tenderly before pushing the larger man back onto the bed and laying on top of him.

Taylor kissed back slowly, carefully; Christian softly running his tongue against Taylor's lips to deepen it. He felt Taylor's hands unfold the towel around Christian's waist, letting it fall to the side somewhere whilst Christian settled between Taylor's large, muscular thighs. The man was solid muscle, not a single inch of fat anywhere to be felt. He'd legs as strong as an ox's but they felt so inviting on either side of Christian's hips.

Taylor broke their lips and sighed, looking up at Christian, "Does it hurt?" he asked softly, leaning up to kiss along his neck gently.

"Hurt?" Christian echoed, groaning as Taylor's lips landed on his ear, "You mean being the receiver?"

"Yeah," Taylor whispered against his skin, "Remember that I've never, you know, had anyone enter the backdoor before."

Christian laughed softly at that, looking down directly into Taylor's eyes and just smiling, feeling a warmth spread through his entire being.

"I'll never hurt you," Christian said firmly, still whispering in hushed tones, "If you want to, we can try?"

"Yeah, I'd like to try," Taylor admitted, "Want me to get the lube?"

"I'll get it," Christian chuckled, "You lose the dorky lounge pants."

Taylor smirked at that, looking down to the tent at the front of his pants before sitting up to remove them. Christian grabbed the KY Jelly from on top of his bedside cabinet and began to slicken his dick before returning to Jason's side.

"Just like with the plug, you need to relax," Christian assured him, coating his fingers in the lubricant then leaning in to kiss the man again. Taylor responded with a low moan and followed Christian's body as he was pushed gently back into the pillows.

Carefully, Christian circled Taylor's entrance before inserting a single finger and then a second, spreading the lubricant around as much as possible. Taylor groaned lowly, his dick twitching against his stomach as he enjoyed Christian's fingers. As Christian went to introduce a third finger, he took Taylor's dick into his mouth and sucked, causing the man to both gasp in pleasure and hiss at the intrusion.

"Sneaky," Taylor commented with a grunt, arching his back slightly as he tried to adjust to Christian's hand whilst receiving a blowjob, "That feels okay," he admitted with a bit of a pant, groaning when Christian looked up at him with his lips around his dick, "Shit, that's hot."

"I'm glad you think so," Christian winked, slowly removing his fingers before applying more lube and starting to finger him again, "There's no such thing as too much lube," he explained, "Remind me we'll need to get some more by the way; we're nearly out."

"Oh I'll remind you alright," Taylor laughed, "There's no way I'm forgetting lube; I'm not missing out on having you as many ways as I can."

Christian laughed at his comment, kissing him tenderly as he removed his fingers once more and settled between Taylor's legs. He continued to kiss the man as he began to guide his cock into Taylor's tight entrance, feeling the man gasp in pain as Christian managed to get his head in.

"That hurts," he admitted, "Fuck."

"Step by step," Christian insisted, "It'll nip a little but if it's too sore we'll stop, okay?"

"Deal," Taylor said and then winced as Christian slid in a little deeper before stopping. Carefully and slowly, he began to rock his hips to get Taylor used to the sensation before sliding a little further in and doing the same again, "Slower."

"Slower," Christian nodded, kissing Taylor's jaw and throat gently as he slowly rocked his hips, "Like this?"

"Yeah," Taylor gasped, "Yes, Sir," he added with a weak laugh.

"No 'Sir' here, Jason," Christian chuckled, laying his forehead against Taylor's as he continued to rock his hips at Taylor's pace.

"I love when you call me Jason," Taylor admitted, lightly kissing Christian's lips, "It's so rare anyone does. Not even my ex called me that."

"Your mine, Jason," Christian said firmly, interlocking their hands as he began to pump his hips a little harder, nearly completely inside of the muscular man beneath him, "My Jason."

"Oh god, Christian, I…damn," Taylor groaned, sitting up a little and grabbing Christian's lips in a desperate and passionate kiss, wrapping his arms around his neck and shoulders to pull their bodies impossibly close. Christian was initially startled but he held on to Taylor for dear life, afraid that if he let go the man would disappear from him.

How unfair was it that they couldn't stay together like this for forever? Christian didn't want to lose him, couldn't stand the thought of not having this man, his bodyguard and…his best friend by side his side.

Christian used his free hand to grab hold of Taylor's cock, jerking it off with his lube slicked fingers. Taylor gasped against Christian's lips but didn't hesitate. He began to rock his own hips, disrupting Christian's rhythm slightly however it was arousing as hell watching him squirm underneath him.

"I'm close," Christian admitted with a thin smile, focusing on Taylor's cock now because he wanted his first time to be as enjoyable as possible.

"Me too," Taylor admitted, his stomach muscles quivering, "I'm going to cum," he mumbled, still kissing him.

"Wait for me," Christian instructed, "I'm nearly there."

With a few final pumps of his hips Christian finished, gasping loudly as he came inside Taylor, his entire body shuddering as he fell apart wrapped in Taylor's tight grasp. He realised how selfish he was, wrapped up in his own climax, that it took a moment to register that Taylor had also cum, between them, both of their bodies sticky with his semen.

Please don't leave me, Christian begged silently, pressing his forehead to Jason's as they both lay in each other's embrace, still connected.

"Christian, I-" Taylor started with a pant, looking directly up at Christian with those muddy, greenish blue eyes and smiling with an expression Christian couldn't read, "I…I'll remind us to buy more lube tomorrow," He sighed, lightly kissing Christian once more, "I'd like a shower; I feel…wet."

Christian chuckled and pulled out slowly, looking down at where his dick had just come from and laughed, "That looks fantastic."

"Doesn't feel it," Taylor laughed, "It feels messy."

"Come on then, let me help you get cleaned up, Marine," Christian chuckled as Taylor got up, "You've left a wet spot. Want me to strip the bed again?"

"Twice in one night?" Taylor grunted as he walked a little more delicately than he usually would, "Fuck that. I'll sleep there and do it tomorrow."

"Yes sir," Christian chuckled, slapping Taylor's perky ass as he passed on his way to the en suite.


	32. Chapter 32

**WARNING; Rated M for future m/m and adult themes, this is not going to be a CG/Ana fic. It will be a CG/Taylor** **.**

 **Chapter 32.**

Jason woke up in Christian Grey's bed, bursting for a piss which wasn't normally like him. He opened his eyes and looked down his body when he felt a sudden pressure on his lower abdomen, Christian's knee hooked over Jason's body and pushing down directly on his bladder; the cause of his immense discomfort. Christian was sound asleep still, his head on Jason's shoulder and a look of absolute tranquillity upon his face. He looked adorable and, if it weren't for the call of nature, Jason would have liked to cuddle him tightly and enjoy the last few hours in bed before Christian had to go to work and Jason had to become his all-seeing protection.

He tried to slip away as carefully as he could but it didn't work at all, Christian's grip on Jason's body merely tightening like a boa constrictor and making the pain all that worse.

"Christian," Jason said, unable to stop himself squirming as he clutched himself when Christian's knee pushed down harder, "Hey, let me go before I piss the bed, Christian."

"Huh?" Christian yawned, opening one beautiful grey eye before screwing his face up and rolling away to the other side of the bed, allowing Jason to make a break for freedom.

When he returned after a near miss, Christian was sprawled out like a starfish, completely out for the count despite his intentions to go to work in a few hours. Jason smiled, pulling the duvet over the man's lean, lightly scarred chest and Christian curled right back up to sleep.

His stomach growled so Jason headed through to the kitchen to make breakfast for himself. He'd just cracked open a whole carton of eggs into a frying pan when his mobile phone wrung.

"Taylor speaking," he answered in his deadpan work tone, wedging the phone between his ear and shoulder whilst he cooked.

"Taylor, it's Graham," the detective handling Christian's case replied. Jason could hear Graham taking the first sip of his coffee and sighing in satisfaction.

"Well hello there, stranger. Here to tell me the prick threatening Grey's been apprehended and awaiting trial?" Jason replied, turning down the heat of the hob to let his eggs cook away nicely. If the perp was in custody, Jason would be able to take that god damn vacation he'd promised himself every year. Someplace warm…a beach…where the women were easy and the beer was cheap and flowed like a river. Maybe Cancun? Sawyer loved Mexico and raved about it being the best place to switch off from work and unwind. Jason knew he'd need a miracle vacation to get over Christian when this job was done.

Sighing, he looked towards the bedroom where Christian was sleeping soundly. Jason didn't want to leave Christian but eventually he knew he had to. Jason's job wasn't one that worked well with relationships. He could be away weeks at a time, sometimes even months with no contact to the Western world depending on where the job took him. Because of work he'd missed precious moments like the birth of his beloved daughter. And then he'd missed her first words and first steps. Really it wasn't half obvious why his marriage had failed. Christian didn't deserve to feel the same crippling loneliness Lynn had experienced, waiting for Jason to stop playing mercenary and come home so she could also have a life.

But playing happy families wasn't something he knew how to do, nor was it something he felt safe doing. Fighting in warzones, being shot at by the bad guys and executing daring drug raids in remote rainforests were all places he felt comfortable and safe. Sitting in the audience at his daughter's ballet recital with his ex-wife and her PTA friends? Fucking nightmare.

"Afraid not," Graham sighed in frustration, "This is just a friendly update call I'm afraid, T. Everything's calmed the fuck down and it's eerie. Like the bastard has decided he's-"

"or she's," Jason added firmly, not willing to rule out several women in Christian's life; Elena, Ros, his previous submissives. He may not have as many women in his life as his brother, but the women Christian had had interactions with in the past could all be given a motive. Christian knew about Elena's lifestyle and all the wealthy, exceptionally powerful men who were her slaves. Ros was Christian's deputy in GEH; she could only stand to gain. The Submissives; sex, love and affairs were all cliché reasons to commit murder. It could be a male, but Jason argued that it could also very well be a woman.

" _They_ ," Graham corrected himself, "it's like _they_ have decided they like Christian now, there's no need to threaten him."

"This is the calm before the storm," Jason observed gravely, "This will be when mistakes are made."

"You, make a mistake?" Graham snorted and laughed, "You're the most anal man I know, Taylor. I don't think you've made a single mistake in your career."

Jason couldn't help but laugh at Graham's entire sentence, looking back to the bedroom where Christian was still sleeping. The night before had left Jason feeling tender and confused. He was tender because, obviously, he'd allowed Christian to take his virginity. Or was that not the correct term? Jason wasn't honestly sure what had occurred, if one would even consider that losing their virginity or not. All he knew was that his ass hurt but he'd like to do it again.

Secondly, he was confused because he was enjoying Christian's company too much. The man had gotten under Jason's skin, those beautiful, Godly, grey eyes burnt into Jason's memory. They were all he saw when he closed his own eyes at night. And he'd called him 'Jason' the night before also; he'd called him Jason and it had sounded almost angelic said whilst they had been having slow, passionate, tender sex. The memory had Jason's dick twitching in his lounge pants and he had a sneaky grope of himself for a moment.

However, Jason was not disillusioned. Whatever he and Christian had going on would sadly need to come to an end and it was going to be painful for both parties involved. This exact scenario was why Jason's number one rule was never to have sex with the client. It just complicated and blurred the lines between professionalism and personal life.

He'd gone and broke that golden rule. And now it was as if they'd opened the floodgates because they just couldn't keep their hands off each other. It was becoming a dangerous territory, Jason realised. He needed to be extra vigilant now which meant he'd have to put space between Christian and himself and focus on their environment. At least, when they were outside. In Escala he had no intention of putting space between them.

"How's Grey?" Graham asked, bringing Jason back to the conversation.

"He's hanging in there," Jason said fairly removing his hand from his dick, "He was at his folks charity shit last evening."

"I saw the photos from the event on TMZ this morning," Graham chuckled, "Looked like a fancy shindig."

"Fancy wasn't the word," Jason replied as he flipped his eggs, "I need to go. Keep me in the loop," he informed Graham before hanging up and grabbing a few rolls from the breadbin. He buttered them both, placing three eggs in each roll before grabbing the tomato sauce and heading back to the bedroom to wake his Lordship and maybe fit in a little coitis before they needed to separate themselves in the public.


	33. Chapter 33

**WARNING; Rated M for future m/m and adult themes, this is not going to be a CG/Ana fic. It will be a CG/Taylor** **.**

 **Chapter 33.**

"The numbers are looking good, Jack," Christian complimented as he sat back and took a bite out of his crusty roll, "How are you enjoying piloting SIP?"

"Honestly, Mr Grey, it's been great," Jack smiled, dipping his own roll into his soup, "thank you for the opportunity."

"There's nothing to thank me for," Christian smiled back, chewing, "I'm just glad that SIP is finally under decent, hardworking hands. How's the rebranding coming along?"

Jack nodded excitedly, "Your designers have been listening to our workforce and also our clients. They've drafted up new logos that're a little more inkeeping with GEH," he replied, leaning forwards on Christian's desk and pulling up a few of the new brand designs that his team had sent SIP's employees for opinions. It was important that if SIP was going to be part of Christian's expanding empire and stand as his company's first steps into the media, it needed to look the part.

"I like that one," Christian commented, looking at a simple white stencil of the Space needle twinned with the company's title, "Perhaps it should maybe be grey though? In keeping with the colour scheme of GEH."

"That was my thoughts too," Jack grinned, sitting back down in his chair and letting Christian go through the images himself. In the background, sitting on what Christian referred to as 'his sofa', Taylor watched Jack like a hawk. His murky eyes looked impossibly dark, narrowed as he watched Jack Hyde getting closer to Christian and smiling away at him. If Christian were a gambling man, he'd have bet his business empire that Taylor was jealous of the attention Jack was receiving.

"How's your personal life going?" Christian asked as he handed Jack back his iPad and went back to finishing his soup.

Jack smiled again and laughed, shaking his head at Christian however Christian's eyes had fallen behind Jack to watch Taylor's reaction. The bodyguard's lips were nearly pulled back over his snarling teeth. The image made Christian's heart flutter a little; Taylor being jealous only confirmed his belief that Taylor was experiencing the same feelings as Christian himself. Although he'd never dare tell Taylor, Christian had fantasised about throwing Andrea out the window for how she always seemed to drop pencils and pens in front of Taylor, her tits near always falling out in an attempt to seduce him.

"It's going," Jack chuckled, running his hand through his dusty blonde waves. He'd begun dressing in a more professional manner, which Christian was appreciative of, however there was still an element of hippy about him, "I'm being invited to a lot more events, fancy parties, ever since the GEH take over," he admitted, "It's been…different but in a good sense. My partner and I have booked a holiday to Japan."

Christian laughed a little at the man's mention of Japan, recalling the many times he'd seen the inside of Jack's office since the GEH takeover of SIP, "Japan, your second home?"

"Exactly," Jack nodded, "Norman's not sold on it, but I'm sure he'll enjoy it or I'll be leaving him there."

"Oh," Christian frowned, looking at Jack differently suddenly. He'd assumed, given how derogative Jerry Roach had been about the women in and around his office, that Jack swung the same way. Now, Christian realised that Jack had been keeping his sexuality a secret from his former boss and possibly felt more confident discussing it now that Jack himself was the company's president, taking his orders from Christian.

"I never realised you were gay," Christian continued, "I just assumed-"

"-that I was as pig headed as Jerry Roach?" Jack chuckled, "No, I'm not gay. At least, not completely. I'm bi-sexual. I hope that's not a problem for you, Mr Grey?"

"Of course not," Christian scoffed, "I'd still have you if you were gay," he added, looking towards Taylor who'd physically growled. Jack also turned around, smiling at the larger man.

"You okay there, Taylor?" Jack asked with that large, white, friendly smile.

"I'm fine, thank you," Taylor mumbled before looking at Christian, "Are you watching your time, Sir?"

Christian nodded, his next appointment approaching soon. "I'm going to have to cut this working lunch short, Jack. I have another meeting coming up and I need to prep."

Jack nodded and stood, gathering up his rubbish and disposing it in Christian's trash can before getting his coat, "I'll be in touch about the designs, Mr Grey."

"I look forward to it," Christian said politely, watching Jack leave the office before his head snapped to Taylor, " _Really_?"

"I don't trust him," Taylor snapped, crossing his large arms and glaring at the report in front of him, "I think we should be careful of him."

"You're jealous," Christian stated, holding up his hand when Taylor went to argue, "You are. You're so fucking jealous, it's obvious."

"Fuck off," Taylor snarled and stood, pacing angrily around the room, "You're starting to really fuck me off."

"Right, whatever," Christian mumbled and stood also, cracking his shoulders and stretching, "I need to go to the storage closet for a new ink cartridge," he informed Taylor before walking out of his office with Taylor in tow, nodding at the handful of employees they passed.

"I'm not jealous," Taylor grumbled under his breath, "At least not of Jack Hyde."

"Really?" Christian teased as he looked across the shelves for the cartridge he needed. The closet was an absolute chaotic mess; Andrea would need to be spoken to about the lack of organisation. She was supposed to keep a tight ship, "Because I could actually see you thinking about killing the guy."

"Anyone who wears baseball shoes with a suit deserves to be killed," Taylor muttered, making Christian laugh a little; Jack's fashion choices were…different, but they were improving with every visit to GEH.

"Noted, Taylor," Christian commented, before turning back to look at his bodyguard. He was so broad that his shoulders practically touched the shelves on each side of the walls in this narrow room, his eyes still dark and narrowed. They fell upon Christian's and his expression softened slightly. It mad Christian's stomach flutter a little; Taylor always seemed to look longingly like that whenever the two made eye contact. It was arousing as hell because it was obvious to Christian how much he meant to Taylor.

"You've not got a reason to feel jealous," he promised, approaching Taylor slowly. He brought his hand up the inside of Taylor's denim clad leg, cupping his junk and making him flinch, "No reason at all."

"Wuh-what are you doing?" Taylor frowned, cursing when Christian went down onto his knees in front of them, "Shit."

"I hope not," Christian mumbled, unzipping Taylor's jeans, "Close the door and lock it."

"Sir, no. We can't do this," Taylor protested, though closed the door and locked it like a good, horny boy anyway, "What about your colleagues?"

"Don't worry about them," Christian mumbled, pulling Taylor's hardening cock out of his briefs and jerking it off whilst his lips lightly kissed and nipped his beefy thighs, "You're my priority."

"Yes, Sir," Taylor muttered, taking hold of the shelves on either side of him, "Suck me off, please."

Christian smirked, "Only if you stop with jealous act," he demanded, lightly licking the head of his cock whilst maintaining eye contact with him.

"Shit, that's hot, Christian," Taylor growled lowly, "I love when you look up at me like that," he added, rocking his hips forward so that Christian would take more than just his tip into his mouth, "Ahhw yeah," he muttered.

Christian chuckled around his dick, closing his eyes as he focused on his technique, wanting to really make Taylor squirm with pleasure. He had just started to rub Taylor's balls when he felt the man take hold of Christian's face and pull it away from his dick.

At first, Christian thought it was because Taylor wanted to have sex, but he began pulling his pants back up, tucking his dick into his waistband.

"What are you doing?" Christian frowned, wiping his lips as he got up onto his feet.

"I said 'no'," Taylor growled, "I told you I didn't want to. Not here."

"Why not?" Christian argued, "I own this company. I own this building, I own those people. If anyone says anything-" he stopped and looked at Taylor before realisation dawned upon him; Taylor was worried about what people would think. Again. Christian remembered suddenly how angry he'd been when they'd gone to Portland to swim in the lake and they'd been discovered. Taylor had closed right up and pushed Christian away, as though disgusted with the idea that people would know they were intimate.

"I need to be on top of my game, Christian," Taylor admitted, "Believe it or not, my issue right now is that I need to focus on protecting you right now. Getting my dick sucked, as much as I really want that to happen, isn't going to keep my head sharp."

Christian swallowed back his anger and allowed himself to see Taylor's reason, cursing under his breath, "You're right. Sorry. I should have stopped when you said 'no'. I wasn't thinking."

"It's fine," Taylor shrugged, untucking his t-shirt so that his hard on was slightly less noticeable, "You can make it up to me later."

"I'll take you for dinner tonight," Christian nodded, "There's a good place down from Escala. Mom and I go a lot."

"I like food," Taylor nodded in return, and then smiled at Christian, "Have I ever told you how amazing you look in your work suits? Because you always look amazing to me."

"Yeah, yeah," Christian muttered, shimmying past Taylor and stepping out the door and back into the main office after finding the damn ink cartilage he needed, "Come on. There's work to do." Taylor chuckled, following him with his hands in his jean pockets, passing Andrea's reception area, "Andrea, the stationary cupboard is utter chaos. I want it organised for the end of the day; I don't care who does it, just make sure it doesn't take me more than five minutes to find an ink cartridge again."

"Sir," Andrea nodded, face white as a ghost as she held out a folded piece of paper, "I-I was going through the company mail, organising things wuh-when I opened an envelope addressed to 'GEH' and read this," she stammered, "I think we need to call the police."

Christian gulped and went to take the paper, however Taylor snatched it first and opened it himself before cursing lowly, "Fucking hell."

"What are they saying now?" Christian asked calmly, swallowing back his nerves as he looked to Taylor, "What is it?"

Taylor opened up the letter and held it out to Christian, "Don't touch it," he instructed, "The less prints on it, the better."

This letter was completely different to the last million death threats Christian felt as if he'd had received. It was handwritten, a cursive joining style which reminded Christian of his own mother's writing a little, however there were a few subtle differences such as the way the letter 'C' was drawn. Unlike the last letters, this one only contained two, unsettling words;

" _Soon, Christian_.'

Below was a picture of a stick figure hanging, nothing remotely artistic but Christian found the simplicity of it very graphic and frightening. His hand slowly took hold of his throat as he looked at the image over and over again, allowing it to sink in.

Beside him, he was vaguely aware of Taylor ordering Andrea to place the envelope in a ziplock bag he'd produced from somewhere Christian didn't quite catch. Andrea also appeared to be on the phone calling the police, Taylor securing the evidence and studying the envelope through the safety of the bag.

"Well, shit," Christian said, and began to laugh, "That handwriting looks like-"

"Elena's," Taylor nodded, "I know," he said, leaning forward and snatching the phone from Andrea, "Graham? It's T here. There's been a new letter. This one's different."


	34. Chapter 34

**WARNING; Rated M for future m/m and adult themes, this is not going to be a CG/Ana fic. It will be a CG/Taylor**

 **Chapter 34.**

Christian couldn't believe it was Elena. Jason watched as he perched himself on the kitchen bunker in Escala and stroked his lightly stubbled chin, thinking deeply about the whole situation. The latest note had unsettled him but he seemed to have built up a resistance to their deliverance and message. Unlike before where he'd panicked Christian appeared to have become desensitized to the threats. As the civilian, this was possibly a good thing. It meant that he'd detached himself from the situation which, eventually, made therapy easier.

"We'll get back to you both ASAP about prints," Inspector Graham said, stood in front of Christian and Jason, having come to Escala to collect statements for the one hundredth time. Andrea had been visibly shaken in the office and so had been given a period of leave until she recollected herself, her statement having been short and swift; she'd opened an envelope address to Christian Grey's office floor though it had merely read 'To Grey Enterprises and Holding', so she'd opened it to assess which department it had been intended for. Discovering the threat twinned with the unimpressive cartoon of a hanging stickman had been far from what she'd expected.

"How's Andrea?" Christian asked, the first thing he'd said after giving a statement himself.

"She'll be fine," Graham nodded, "She's got victim support if she'd like to speak to someone but I reckon she'll tough it out and be back to work soon. It's for the best that people do that anyway. Get back to normality if they've had a bit of a fright."

Christian nodded once and then went back to appearing to think hard about the situation and the possibility that Elena Lincoln was the culprit behind months of traumatic abuse and threats. Jason wasn't satisfied that Christian's troubles were over until there was a conviction. If this letter contained prints, if the writing matched Elena's like they suspected, then Jason would be satisfied. Until then, he wouldn't be dropping his guard. Not yet at least.

"Thank you, Graham," Jason said for Christian, shaking the man's sweaty fat paw as he walked him to the door.

"Do you really think Ms Lincoln is behind the letters?" Graham asked Jason at the elevator door, staring up at him with confusion, "What's the motive?"

"I think that's your job to distinguish, Inspector," Jason said and smirked a little. The truth was, Jason wasn't sure but he had his hunches. Elena was a benefactor in Christian's will; Jason had been permitted to read the document and Elena, as 'my loyal friend', stood to inherit a large portion of Christian's wealth and business, along with his family. Money was the second biggest motivator in these crimes, second to love.

However, Jason felt that it was perhaps Christian's knowledge of Elena's past times which made him trouble for her. Christian knew about Elena's devious personal life and with that he knew her powerful, high class cliental. Maybe it wasn't Elena, maybe it was one of the politicians she…serviced on a weekly basis. Congress didn't appreciate the whips and chains thing after all.

Or it could just be simple; Elena's a sadist and gets a kick out of scaring Christian. That wasn't out of the realms of possibility here.

"I don't believe it's Elena," Christian said when Jason returned, "I don't. She wouldn't do that to me. I know that looks like her handwriting but honestly, Taylor, it can't be her."

"Well we'll see what the forensic results are," Jason replied calmly, crossing his arms against his chest, "How are you feeling?"

"I'm okay," Christian sighed, squeezing the bridge of his nose and mumbling, "I'm fine, honest. I'm just embarrassed Andrea had to find out about the threats. She's going to have to sign an NDA before she comes back to work."

"I'll organise that for you," Jason offered, his stomach growling loudly and causing Christian to look up and laugh at him, "Sorry."

"Don't worry, I'm hungry too," Christian sighed, jumping down from his perch and going to the cupboards to investigate. They were running low on provisions though that was possibly down to Jason needing to eat a lot of calories though out the day, "Do you still want to go out for dinner?"

"I'm not too bothered," Jason said, "I just need food in the immediate future."

Christian nodded, "Lets go out then. I just need a quick shower and a change," he said, "It'll take my mind off the police. There's a sushi place around the corner that's good. We could just walk."

"Only if we get a ride on the way back," Jason said firmly, "Jury is still out on Elena. I'm not walking alone with you in the dark."

"Deal," Christian agreed, stripping as he headed to the bathroom.

* * *

Jason felt his lip curve upwards into a smirk, shaking his head as Christian continued to talk to his mother on the phone. He'd forgotten to call her earlier like he'd promised, given the excitement of the latest letter and the police involvement which followed. Rightly so, Grace sounded pissed. Jason had struggled to hide his amusement when Christian groaned and took the call initially as they left Escala via the back entrance.

"Mom, I'm fine," Christian mumbled in frustration, kicking a piece of trash as they walked, "Yes, I'm not alone. I'm okay. No I'm not. Mom, it's no one."

He looked directly at Jason, rolling those beautiful grey eyes at him before looking ahead towards the street. Christian was adamant that they walk to this fish place as it was a mere ten minutes from Escala, supposedly, but Christian's pace had dropped considerably since Grace called to give him a tongue lashing. Jason allowed them to walk, provided that they get a ride back once they were finished. A friend of his was in town and had agreed to be that lift for leftovers.

"Mom, no I'm not-" Christian huffed in absolute exasperation, pulling the phone from his ear and taking a deep, aggravated, breath before going back to speaking to his mother. Jason had to admit that it was adorable that his mother cared so much about Christian. The last time Taylor had spoken to his own mother was nearly a year ago. Being home was too hard for him after losing Sophia, and he suffered under the pressure of being their last remaining child. Family wasn't a safe place for him and probably the reason his marriage had obliterated shortly after Sophie was born.

"For crying out loud, mom. I'm not-yes, Taylor's here. No I'm not lying to you," Christian growled and thrust his cell against Jason's ear, "Speak to her," he demanded.

"-I'm not accusing you of lying, Christian, I just worry you're walking around the city alone. It's dangerous!" Grace huffed into Jason's ear, "Honestly. I don't care who you're with, if it's a date or not, I just want to be sure you're safe."

"Hello, Mrs Grey," Jason coughed, interrupting her mid-rant, keeping his eyes trained forward.

"Oh Taylor!" Grace gasped, "Hello, how are you?"

"I'm fine, Ma'am," Jason responded politely, Christian holding the phone firmly against his ear for him, "Your son is safe; he's with me."

"Good, I'm glad. You're sensible," Grace laughed and sighed happily by the sound of it, "Where are you both?"

"We're headin' for dinner. Some high end fish place?" Jason shrugged, "I'm not sure."

"Sushi Kashiba," Grace said firmly, "It's wonderful, Taylor. Are you walking from Escala?"

"Yes, Ma'am," Jason replied, tuning out of the conversation for a moment as he eyed a specific black car who's licence plate he'd recognised from when they'd first stepped outside of Escala. He struggled to see into the back seats due to the tinted hue of the windows but he saw the driver and instantly relaxed; an elderly man who was yelling at someone beside him and pointing in every direction imaginable. Taylor realised it was just another lost tourist with a rented vehicle attempting to navigate Seattle. False alarm. He sighed in relief.

"and he better pay for you, Taylor," Grace continued, Jason listening to her once more, "if he's the one who's invited you out for a dinner date. Make sure he's paying."

"Uh," Taylor coughed, feeling his cheeks burn red as he looked towards Christian for a fleeting moment, "It's not a date, ma'am."

Christian snatched back his phone, "Mom. I'm hanging up now. Yes, you've annoyed me. Yes, I love you too. Okay, bye." He pocketed his cell and ran his hands through his hair. Jason could see him smiling despite his annoyance, reaffirming what he'd already come to know about Christian; he was devoted to his family, particularly his mother and Mia. They were his absolute world and Jason would have gambled his life that Christian would give up everything for his ladies in a heartbeat. "Sorry about her, Taylor."

"She thinks I'm sensible," Jason smirked and laughed when Christian punched him hard on the arm.

"You're not sensible," Christian huffed as Jason rubbed his bicep painfully, "Of all the words I could use to describe you, sensible isn't the first to come to mind," he added, putting his hands in his jacket pockets as they approached the minimalist looking building, "Butch. Tough guy. Troublemaker. Infuriating. Ketchup Monster. Those are a few synonyms of Jason Taylor."

"Speaking of which, this place better have ketchup," Jason mumbled as Christian went to open the door for him, "Otherwise I'm gonna be pissed."

"You can't have ketchup on Sushi," Christian snorted in disgust.

"Watch me," Jason challenged, his eyes meeting Christian's and feeling his entire body suddenly heat up like a flame. He was tempted to kiss him, press his body up against the wall and show off to the public that he was _fucking_ Christian Grey.

 _Protecting_ , Jason reminded himself as he broke the connection and averted his eyes before they did something stupid. He was protecting Christian Grey. The sex…that was still something he was struggling to wrap his mind around because sleeping with a client, particularly a male at that, was so alien to Jason. He'd never done it before.

He wasn't sure how he felt sitting in Grey's company, just the two of them at a dinner table with two small poxy candles flickering away to add a little atmosphere to their meal. Jason couldn't remember the last time he'd had dinner in someone's company like this. Perhaps it was last December where he'd attempted to follow Sawyer's lead and meet someone, in a non-work related field; a civilian woman who worked for a law firm. He'd met her in a bar, gave her his number, booked them a table under a false name, wined and dined her, dropped her home and walked her to the door, agreed to an invite for after dinner coffee, followed her to the bedroom and proceeded to have unfulfilling sex.

The entire date had just been a mundane succession of steps which Jason had felt required to take. There had been no impulsivity or passion, just two lonely adults who ultimately just wanted to itch the scratch brought on by the lack of intimacy and closeness in their sad, desolate lives. It had been so damn depressing that Jason had thought for a moment that he must be broken; she'd been attractive enough, classy and educated with a nice house and an interesting job but he hadn't felt that tickle of excitement, despite her best efforts to entertain and entice him. He'd found the only way he could climax was by doing doggy so that she didn't have to see how disinterested his expressions were and become disappointed. Jason had vowed then and there that he'd never date a civilian; that he'd stick to women who understood his occupation and were using him for sex just as much as he was using them.

Yet here he was, with Christian Grey's perfectly angelic smile lighting up the whole room in front of his very eyes. For the first time in what felt like decades, Jason felt that spark of excitement radiating from his chest, up to his brain and south to his dick. How was it that someone could feel so enthralled by another human, particularly one of the same gender? Jason felt giddy, high with a warmth which spread throughout his veins when Christian laughed in his direction.

He cocked an elegant eyebrow at Jason, staring towards him with curiosity before opening his mouth and saying; 'Earth to Taylor. What do you want to eat?"

Jason shook himself from the hold Christian unknowingly had on him and turned to stare at the expectant waiter, "…huh?"

"What do you want to eat," Christian repeated, bemusement smeared across his face, "Or would you like me to order for you?"

"You go ahead," Jason nodded, the menu meaning very little to him, "I'm looking for quantity more than quality."

"Noted," Christian said before pointing out a few different items on the menu, ordering a glass of wine for himself and orange juice for Jason, "You tuned out there, Taylor."

"I was just thinking about something," Jason explained, crossing his arms and leaning on the table, "It's been a long time since I had dinner like this with anyone."

"What do you mean, 'like this'?" Christian asked with the hint of a challenge in his tone, a smirk dancing in the corner of his lips. He knew exactly what Jason meant, but he wanted to hear him say it. Jason, however, was a stubborn bastard and unprepared to give Christian that victory.

"With a client," he said sternly, seeing an expression of disappointment flash across Christian's face, until Jason winked his way and picked up his glass of orange juice, "So Sushi, huh?"

"Yeah, Sushi," Christian nodded, "Mom and I come here a lot. Jack Hyde was talking about it, hence why I thought we should have dinner together."

"Of course Jack Hyde mentioned it," Jason scoffed, "All he thinks about it Japan. It's freaky."

"It's not freaky to be passionate about something," Christian replied, "It is freaky to be jealous, however."

"I'm not jealous of Jack Hyde," Jason huffed, "I'm just observant; a grown man shouldn't be that interested in Japanese culture."

"He studied it in college," Christian laughed and shook his head, "Did you ever go to college?" Jason hit Christian with a 'what do you think?' expression and Christian shook his head, "Sorry. Of course you never."

"I went straight to the military," Jason reminded him, "Even when I left the Corps, I never went to college. I did a few years…doing something we really can't talk about."

"Whenever you say things like that," Christian pointed out, lifting his glass of wine to his lips and pausing deliberately for emphasis Jason was sure, "I desperately want to know more."

"Knowing about my previous employment will get you killed," Jason stated and then shrugged, his lip creeping up the side of his mouth into a smirk, "I mean, that's why my CV was so empty when I came for that interview."

"I remember," Christian tutted, shaking his head again as a portion of sushi was delivered to their table. Jason had no idea what Christian had ordered them but he was happy when the waitress handed him a small pot of tomato ketchup with a dinky little spoon.

Christian shook his head, "Did you really think I wouldn't order you tomato sauce?"

"You keep treating me like this," Jason said, lifting his own glass now and pausing for effect like Christian had done, "and I'll start thinking you want something."

Christian's eyes sparked with lust and he sat forward so that he could whisper lowly, "I want to tie you to my bed and spank that smirk from the side of your face. If I need to feed you a litre of ketchup to let that happen then so be it; your ass is mine tonight."

* * *

Jason stepped out first, the cold night Seattle air slapping him in the face. He shivered as he looked around the street before indicating for Christian to join him. He was getting better at allowing Jason to take the lead places and wait for a command to proceed. It was an important lesson to learn, particularly when they intended to walk home after such a…fishy dinner.

Grey rubbed his hands together vigorously and chuckled, "Considering it's summer…it's freezing tonight," he chattered, stuffing his hands in his trouser pockets, "Thank you for your company."

"Thank you for dinner," Jason responded, glad he could see Escala stood tall above the rest of the buildings before them. He didn't anticipate whoever was threatening Christian Grey to have a perfectly placed sniper in one of the plentiful high buildings but he did anticipate drive by shootings, potential attackers from side streets and alleyways, knives, guns, lead pipes. All of these scenarios played out in Jason's mind with every step he took beside Christian and it wouldn't stop until he'd the man safe, inside Escala's fortress like walls. He was glad to herd Christian safely into their ride; an unsubtle, brand new, neon yellow Camaro.

"That's our cab?" Christian questioned suspiciously, eyeing up the muscle car. Like Jason, Christian had a fondness for fast, impressive cars. It was one of their common interests. Jason had always loved cars and recalled a time in his childhood where his father had worked in a car manufacturing warehouse and let Jason come with him one day to see how engines were created.

"I called a friend for a lift," Jason explained, opening the back passenger door for Christian, "I don't trust anyone who's not on my payroll."

"He works for you?" Christian pressed, Jason able to see the man's uncertainty as he peered into the car and tried to spot the driver.

Jason shrugged, "I suppose, yeah he does. On occasions. Some jobs I like taking company and he gets a slice of the profit. Now get in."

"Are you paying him tonight?" Christian asked with defiance and then smiled and relaxed a little when Jason held up the Tupperware of leftovers he'd demanded the waitress give him. Thankfully, he turned and climbed into the car, Jason closing the door behind him before walking around to the other side and entering.

"Hey, T," the man up front called, making Christian tense a little at his over friendly tone as Jason took his seat beside him, "You bring my Sushi?"

"Sure, Sawyer," Jason called, the distinctively handsome man punching the air in excitement when his dinner was chucked up front beside him in the empty seat. Jason buckled in and let out a sigh, feeling instantly safer with Christian off the street and inside Sawyer's obnoxiously bright car, "How's family life?"

Sawyer laughed, "It's a fucking mess," he said, shaking his head as he pulled out and made his way in the opposite direction of Escala, intending to drive a little for security measures, "Hanae isn't interested. I think she's decided to cut me out of the picture, wont send me pictures of Tomo anymore."

"She'll come round," Jason said, though he wasn't sure that was the correct thing to even say. After a gig protecting the very wealthy Japanese socialite, Hanae Sanada, Sawyer had spent the following weeks on vacation…in her bed. It seemed inevitable that they'd end up pregnant. The fall out of the pregnancy had been an absolute clusterfuck, the likes of which Jason had never seen. Many nights, Sawyer had attempted to confine in Jason over a bottle of Jack Daniels. Jason had always thought the poor bastard must have been desperately scared to ask Jason for family advice; Jason was a terrible parent and a terrible son by his own admissions.

"Maybe it's for the best," Sawyer shrugged, looking back at both Christian and Jason collectively, "At least you don't have to worry about fraternising with the client, T, not that you ever would I guess."

Jason was glad both he and Christian were staring out of their respective windows or Jason feared Sawyer would notice just how wrong his statement was. He wasn't even too sure what to say following that statement and so was glad when Christian sat forward in his seat and used that CEO pokerface expression as he regarded Sawyer.

"How long have you known Taylor, Mr Sawyer?" he asked.

"Too long," Sawyer said, smirking at Jason in the rearview mirror, "I'd have gotten less time for murder."

"Noted, Sawyer," Jason scoffed, shaking his head as, by some miracle, Sawyer got parked by Escala's main entrance. It had been a while since they'd used this one, both Christian and Jason choosing to mix up their comings and goings from the building to limit the predictability of their movements.

"I'll wait till you're in," Sawyer announced as he opened up the tub of sushi and took a smell, "Ooh Wasabi, thanks T."

Jason rolled his eyes and opened his door first, scanning the streets and roads before walking to Christian's door. It was fairly quiet, only a handful of people walking by them and a few cabs doing their circuits for the night. An uneventful night, after an eventful day.

"Mr Sawyer," Christian said with a nod goodbye, climbing out and walking towards Escala with Jason right behind him, ushering him forward. "He seems like a nice guy."

Jason chuckled, focused on getting Christian home safe, "Nice isn't the word I'd use-"

"Mr Grey?" someone called behind them. Jason instinctively shielded Christian's body with his own as the surprising flash of an iPhone went off right before his eyes, momentarily blinding him.

Jason kicked out at the pap, the sole of his boot colliding perfectly with the guy's fat stomach and knocking him back against Sawyer's car. The move gave Jason the space he needed between himself and Christian and the pap, his vision returning as he lunged like an animal at the intruder. Sawyer jumped out of the Camaro and took Christian's arm, pulling him into Escala and away from Jason and the paparazzi. He didn't need to see Jason losing his shit; he didn't need to see how much of a fright Jason had got and how much he was going to make this low life leach pay for making Jason believe he'd been shot.

"Hey! You can't kick me like tha-!"

Jason punched the fat cunt right in the cheek, grabbing him before he lost his balance and dragging him from the kerb and up the side of Escala where they had a little privacy.

"Delete that photo," Jason demanded, throwing him against the building wall before pinning him under his own body, "Or else."

"Or you'll what?" the Pap spat, his face was flushed and sweaty. Jason could see his cheek beginning to redden where Jason had struck him, "You just assaulted me; I could have you and Grey arrested!" he tried to squirm away but Jason was seeing red and he was not letting this fat tub of lard escape. Certainly not with pictures of Christian.

"Try and have me arrested," Jason threatened, leaning in against the guy's ear and hissing, "and you'll never take photos again. People like me don't get arrested; we vanish."

"Who do you think you are? Casper?" the pap growled and still attempted to defiantly push against Jason's hold.

"You're not too far off the truth, Fatso," Jason laughed nastily, laying his forearm against the Pap's windpipe and pressing his full weight against his body, suffocating the life from him live a snake. With his free arm, he delved into the inside of his leather coat and pulled out his switchblade, flipping it open and laying it underneath the pap's terrified eyeball, "I'm a Ghost."

"I-I-Fine, take the phone," the pap suddenly babbled, "I don't care, just fucking take my phone." He pissed himself; Jason could feel his own trouser leg becoming damp as well and didn't that just fuck him off more, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to interrupt your date. I don't even care for Christian Grey that much. TMZ would have paid a lot for pictures of him with a man, that's all. It's nothing personal. I saw you both at dinner and I thought it was a matter of time before you came home and-"

Jason slammed his arm into his throat again to silence his rambling, choking him before allowing him to breathe once more as he pulled the mobile phone from the man's possession.

"You stay away from Christian Grey or I will kill you," Jason threatened, stepping back and pocketing the iPhone into the back of his jeans. He pointed his knife directly at the man, "I have your details now; I will find you. Don't forget that."

Fatso paled and then ran the fastest he'd probably ever ran in his whole life. Jason smirked when he stumbled over his feet before charging in the opposite direction of Escala.


	35. Chapter 35

**WARNING; Rated M for future m/m and adult themes, this is not going to be a CG/Ana fic. It will be a CG/Taylor**

 **Chapter 35.**

Luke Sawyer seemed content in making himself at home despite his so called friend fighting that Pap, alone, with no back up. What if Taylor was stabbed and currently bleeding out behind the back of Escala, out of sight where no one could hear him crying for help? What if the Pap had hit him over the head hard enough to knock him out and every second Christian stood in the foyer with Sawyer was another second Taylor's brain was bleeding within his skull?

The 'What ifs' were becoming more and more fantastical and driving Christian mad. He could no longer stand still and was now pacing across the front room, the heels of his Oxfords echoing through the quiet building. He looked up momentarily when Luke Sawyer returned from exploring the house and doing Taylor's routine security check in his absence. If Christian wasn't so nervous for Taylor, he'd have argued and objected to Sawyer violating his privacy, but his entire focus was on the elevator door, waiting on it opening.

"I've checked all of the rooms, except the one that's locked," Sawyer said as he sat down at the breakfast bar, "Taylor can do a better sweep when he gets back."

" _If_ he gets back," Christian murmured under this breath, replaying the incident over and over again in his mind.

Taylor hadn't known that that man was just an opportunistic paparazzi. For all they'd known in that split second, he could have been the actual stalker and was intending to kill Christian. Yet on instinct, Taylor had shielded Christian's body with his own. To protect Christian's life with his own.

The thought of anyone, particularly Taylor, giving their life up for Christian made him feel physically sick, the pacing the only reason he wasn't curled over the toilet right now. Christian was a repulsive man, a ruined man, so damaged by his abusive childhood that he was left beyond saving; he was subhuman, a worm of a man who tried to play a functional businessman but was, in fact, an emotional cripple. He didn't deserve to be saved, let alone to have another man sacrifice their own life for his.

The reality of having a bodyguard now hit Christian hard. Taylor had initially left almost like a moody fashion accessory to Christian. There was no doubting it that he did make Christian feel safe and sane again but if having a bodyguard meant that someone could lose their life for Christian's…then it couldn't happen any longer and they would need to part ways.

Christian was just too fucked up to be worth saving.

Taylor was too good a man in comparison.

"Mind if I?" Sawyer called, pulling Christian's mind out of its self-loathing pit for a moment. Christian stopped his marching and turned towards Sawyer who had found the cutlery drawer as well as the plates and was pouring his leftover sushi out to eat. He did it so casually, as if Taylor wasn't in any potential danger. As if he hadn't put himself in danger to save Christian…

"No point in stopping you now," Christian muttered angrily, storming away and pacing in agitation once more.

Christian had nearly burnt a hole through to his neighbour's house when the Elevator groaned into life. He pivoted on his heels, turning towards the marble doors and holding his breath. What if Taylor was injured? What if Taylor was dead and the police were coming to take Christian somewhere safe? What if-

The doors slid open painfully slowly, Taylor's large body revealed to him like some holy apparition. His murky coloured eyes instantly met Christian's and Christian felt his heart beat falter and his breathing stop, his mouth dropping to the floor. As quickly as Taylor had looked his way, he walked into the foyer and looked at Sawyer.

"Damn paps," Taylor grumbled in that familiar low, gruff voice of his, "That flash has still blinded me."

"I'd have loved to see how that picture developed," Sawyer laughed, "Your ugly mug in shock."

"Check it out if you want," Taylor added, chucking a mobile phone at his friend before turning round to look at Christian who had yet to move position, "Are you okay?"

Christian nodded, watching as Taylor pulled off his leather jacket and folded it over his arm. It was then that Christian's eyes clocked blood dripping from his knuckles and falling onto the tiled floor, "You're bleeding," he finally managed to choke out, "Jason, you're bleeding."

Christian made a beeline for Taylor, taking his hand in his own and inspecting the bruised and burst knuckles. The cuts were merely superficial, nothing deep or worthy of a trip to the ER, but that didn't stop Christian experiencing a numbing bang of anxiety that made his vision blur. Taylor paused and looked down, watching Christian examine his hand before shrugging.

"It doesn't hurt," Taylor insisted, "It's just a scrape. You'll get my blood on you," he added with a grimace before being dragged by Christian to the sink and having his hand rinsed under the cold faucet.

"Let me clean it up," Christian insisted before looking at Taylor's cheek and noticing a couple of streaks of blood smeared into his stubble, "Is that yours?" he asked, grabbing one of the clean dish clothes and dampening it before dabbing the man's face. He was relieved when he couldn't find a source of the blood before realising that meant the blood belonged to the man Taylor had fought.

"I doubt it; the Pap's nose burst spectacularly," Taylor commented, his lips turning up into a crooked smile. He'd a wicked sense of humour, Christian had learnt. He found it amusing that he'd broken someone's nose and covered himself in their blood. It reminded Christian a little bit of Elliot; the big brawler had always found it funny when he'd gotten into fights during their high school years.

"Stop smirking," Christian laughed himself, meeting Taylor's eye again and smiling himself, "You scared me; you could have been hurt."

"Never," Taylor chuckled, studying his cut hand as the cold water rinsed away his blood, "See? Tis but a scratch."

"Nice Monty Python reference," Christian muttered and then sighed, looking into Taylor's eyes. Up close and under the light of the kitchen he noticed the little flecks of hazel which contributed to the usual murky colour. Blues, greens and hazels.

"…so I'm going to head off if everything's in order," Sawyer coughed, pushing his chair back, the sound of which reminded Christian that they weren't alone. True to form, Taylor instantly tensed and straightened up, his jaw tight as he put some space between himself and Christian.

"Thanks for the ride, Luke," he said gruffly, turning his back on Christian to stare at Sawyer with an intense expression. He crossed his large arms and somehow managed to make himself…bigger. It was as if he'd fluffed his feathers and generated more physical mass. Sawyer crossed his arms and put the kitchen island between himself and Taylor, his own expression one of bemused confusion. He cocked a bushy black eyebrow at Taylor who met him with what sounded like a growl. Sawyer's eyes then met Christian's. Try as he might, Christian was positive that Sawyer saw something there, interpreting Christian's sudden nervousness as confirmation that he had indeed witnessed a moment between Christian and Taylor that blurred the lines of professionalism.

"I better go, T. If you guys need anything," Sawyer coughed, his cheeks going red and his hands getting thrust into his pockets as he looked down at his feet.

"Thank you, Sawyer," Taylor mumbled, "I'll walk you out."

As Taylor left with his associate, Christian let out a breath and flopped over the breakfast bar. They allowed themselves to lose track of their surroundings and Taylor's work colleague and witnessed that spark between the two. Sawyer came across as aloof but he was no fool, Christian was positive. And the way he looked at Taylor just now only confirmed Christian's worst fears; someone dear to Taylor now suspected that he was gay which Christian feared would have Taylor regress backwards.

He groaned lowly before straightening himself and turning to grab the wine from the fridge. There felt like no better time than now to crack it open and numb out his feelings of embarrassment and humiliation. As he finished pouring a glass, Taylor returned with a face like absolute thunder. He marched towards Christian with purpose, probably about to agrue over his insecurities much like what happened when they'd been stumbled upon swimming.

"Taylor," Christian sighed, "Look, I'm so sorr-"

Taylor's lips suddenly crashed against Christian's own, Taylor's large body trapping Christian against the large fridge freezer. Christian's response was delayed, his eyes wide as he felt Taylor forcing his tongue into Christian's mouth before he managed to kiss him back.

"Taylor?" Christian panted, groaning when a hand grabbed his growing erection and Taylor's lips made their way down his neck, "What's going on?"

"I want you," Taylor murmured, his hands unbuckling Christian's belt, "Now."

His words and behaviour shocked Christian; he had anticipated Taylor would become more closed off and apprehensive after Luke Sawyer's judgemental stare earlier. He hadn't ever in his wildest of dreams thought that Taylor would respond like this; passionate and desperate, rubbing his notable erection against Christian's waist. All of his earlier fears that Taylor had been hurt were forgotten for the moment. All that mattered right now was getting the man naked as quickly and as efficiently as possible.

"Okay," Christian gasped as Taylor's hand slipped down into Christian's pants and began jerking him off as best he could manage with the fabric constraint, "You're so hot," Christian muttered, biting Taylor's lip which made the larger man moan lowly, "Come on. Lets get to bed. Now."

"Yes, Sir."


	36. Chapter 36

**WARNING; Rated M for future m/m and adult themes, this is not going to be a CG/Ana fic. It will be a CG/Taylor**

 **Chapter 36;**

Christian and Taylor nearly fell on the floor, their legs completely tangled and twisted together in their enthusiasm to grind their hips and walk at the same time.

"Shit," Taylor laughed as he tripped over Christian's foot and caught himself on the chest of drawers before he knocked himself out. Christian took the opportunity and grabbed on behind Taylor, holding his hips tightly as he ground his erection against the man's muscular, thick ass.

"You're clumsy, Taylor," Christian growled, breathing down the back of Taylor's neck. His tongue licked his body guard's ear like a snake, whispering the dirtiest of fantasies to him before he bit down hard on Taylor's earlobe and pulled, "I wanted to take you into the restaurant's bathroom and fuck you blind in the cubicle. I wanted everyone in the building to hear you screaming my name and begging me to let you cum."

"Christian," Taylor groaned lowly, rotating his ass against Christian's erection. He removed on of his hands from the dresser and made to unbuckle his jeans, shamelessly pulling his cock out to masturbate whilst Christian continued to whisper in his ear and grind against him.

"Are you jerking off, Taylor?" Christian growled dominantly biting the back of his neck before kissing the spot tenderly, "Did I say you could touch yourself?"

"No. But I need to," Taylor groaned, still palming himself, "I want you, so badly."

Christian growled and wrapped an arm around Taylor's throat, pulling him back upright against his own body and grabbing the hand he was jerking off with, "I never gave you permission to touch yourself."

"Please," Taylor begged, shuddering and moaning when Christian tightening his lock around the man's neck. He saw Taylor's erection in the mirror throbbing and twitching in desperation, wet at the tip in anticipation of what he so clearly needed, "Sir, please. I need you," he groaned before grimacing when more pressure was applied to his neck. This seemed to have a positive effect on his body, however, Taylor's hips jerking and his erection straining.

Who'd have thought he'd have liked being held in a lock like this? The realisation made Christian grin and wish he could tie the man up and punish him properly. But, alas, Taylor refused to let Taylor restrain him. He was a worst case scenario type of man and so paranoid that he'd be restrained the moment someone tried to hurt Christian.

Christian was under no delusion that, if he wanted to, Taylor could fight back and escape Christian's tight hold. However the fact that he didn't highlighted to Christian how much Taylor was enjoying having someone completely control him like this. Christian imagined that he'd never really had someone use a martial art restraint on him in the bedroom before.

"Want to know what I really want to do to you, Jason?" Christian whispered, letting go of Taylor's wrist and running his hand up the man's bulging abs. Taylor, like a good boy, didn't instantly reach for his dick once his hands were free. Instead he used them to further push down his jeans then clenched them into fists.

"What, sir?" Taylor choked out, his face red from the tight hold Christian had on him, "What would you like to do to me?"

"I want to blindfold you," Christian mumbled as his hands nipped his bodyguard's nipples, causing Taylor to gasp lowly, "And pin you down on your stomach, hold your legs open with a spreader bar, cuff you to the bedframe."

"Oh god," Taylor whined, rocking his hips forwards frantically in frustration, "Yes."

"And I'd fuck you from behind," Christian whispered, licking his jaw whilst his hand trailed up to Taylor's lips. Slowly he slipped a finger into the man's mouth and made him suck and lick it before pulling it out, "I'd fuck you slowly, making sure you feel every pump," he continued to whisper before bringing his wet finger to Taylor's bare ass and sliding it inside him. Taylor gasped again and his back arched, which only made Christian's hold on his neck more restrictive, "Just like this," Christian purred playfully as he began to gently finger the man, careful not to overdo it; he didn't want Taylor to cum just yet. He would need to beg if he wanted to orgasm tonight.

However, Taylor was already at the begging stage. He whined and pushed back against Christian's hand for more stimulation however this was completely denied and Christian stopped what he was doing as punishment.

"Please, Christian, Mr Grey," Taylor growled, "I need you. Please."

"What do you need me to do?" Christian whispered again, biting his ear as he slipped a second finger inside Taylor, producing the most arousing gasp Christian had ever heard him make.

"Fuck me," Taylor begged, "Please, Sir. Please."

Christian didn't reply for a moment, wanting to add to Taylor's suspension. He continued to lick and bite his ear whilst his fingers gently massaged him slowly, driving the man trapped in his grasp crazy.

Eventually, Christian whispered, "Get the lube," and let Taylor go, the large bodyguard nearly buckling on the floor once he was released. Christian took the opportunity to undress, Taylor launching his own shirt on the way to the bedside cabinet for the lube.

"Shit," Taylor gasped, turning round with the near empty bottle in hand, "I forgot to buy more."

"…for fuck sake," Christian cursed, closing his eyes in frustration. When he opened them, Taylor was yet to move, glaring angrily at the bottle in his hands, "Pass the bottle over and get on the bed," Christian commanded, "On all fours."

If Taylor was nervous or sceptical, he didn't show it, instead handing Christian the bottle and getting on all fours on the bed. He clearly trusted Christian which made Christian's chest swell with pride. God, when did he come to adore Taylor as much as he did? Taylor had literally just walked into his life and had absolutely stolen his heart.

"Good man," Christian mumbled, removing the lid off the bottle and getting as much of the remaining lube out as possible, smearing it on his dick. With his free hand, he suddenly spread Taylor's cheeks before licking his back passage, making Taylor gasp and nearly fall forward in shock, "Keep still," Christian mumbled, producing as much saliva as he could and orally applying it.

"Oh fuck that feels good," Taylor whined, clearly fighting the urge to take himself in hand, "Oh fuck, yes. Shit, Christian."

"You like that?" Christian purred, adding a little of the remaining lube to his wet hole, "Did you like me licking your asshole, Taylor?"

"Yes, Sir. Very much," Taylor gasped, "But please, fuck me. I need to cum."

"Good," Christian growled, taking hold of his dick and slowly entering into Taylor, mindful to proceed cautiously since they only had a little lubrication and saliva, "So tight," Christian groaned, "You alright?"

"I'm fine," Taylor nodded, "Can I touch myself?"

Christian laughed, taking hold of Taylor's lips and thrusting into him slowly then with a little more force, "Be my guest," Christian panted, watching their reflection in the mirror beside them. Taylor looked fucking amazing when he was so fervent and desperate to cum. When Taylor started to buck back against Christian's hips, he felt his eyes roll back and his own orgasm approaching like a steam train.

"That's it," Christian gasped, "I'm going to cum," he panted, "I'm going to cum in your ass."

"Keep going," Taylor moaned, Christian watching him again in the mirror working his hand quickly, "Oh shit, I'm going to cum," he looked up in panic and grabbed the first thing he could to protect the bedspread; one of their many pillows, "Oh shit," he gasped when Christian took hold of his dick to finish him, watching in the mirror as Taylor came all over the pillow.

The sight had Christian finish with an overwhelming intensity that he could have collapsed on Taylor's back. Instead, he dropped to the side in a sweaty, wet heap, looking at the bulkier man.

"Fuck, Taylor," Christian groaned, Taylor falling onto his side too and gasping for breath. They lay in silence for a long period of time, Christian soon fighting off sleep after what had been a very emotional and draining day. He turned to look at Taylor's closed eyes and sighed softly, a semen covered pillow between them preventing Christian from cuddling into the man.

"Please don't leave me," Christian whispered softly, watching Taylor's steady breathing before his eyes closed and he fell asleep, sticky and sweaty onto of the duvet.


	37. Chapter 37

**WARNING; Rated M for future m/m and adult themes, this is not going to be a CG/Ana fic. It will be a CG/Taylor**

 ****Song is Please, Please, Please by the Smiths. I own nothing****

 **Chapter 37;**

Jason watched Christian sleeping, his eyes watching each individual rise and fall of his lean chest. Between them remained the pillow, soiled by Jason's cum which had set in the hours which had passed since they had sex. Christian was beautiful, there was no other word Jason could use to describe the man. His face was angelic; strong jawed with high cheekbones, his pale skin setting off the wonderful russet tones in his copper hair. In his sleep he was serene, cupid bow lips loose and slightly turned up in the corners as though he was having a happy dream for once and smiling.

Jason was so envious of this perfect man. In comparison, Jason Taylor was battered and broken, his body a map of scars which reminded him constantly of the battles he'd fought, both physically and mentally. Christian was scarred too but Jason had come to learn that most of Christian's scarring was internal and caused by his adverse childhood in Detroit, not through war or self-harm like Jason's.

He lifted his forearm and studied his veins curiously, remembering his days of dabbling with addiction. The army had straightened him out; though it had near killed him at the time and he'd hated his father for chucking him out of the family house. The withdrawals and dope sickness he had endured in the homeless shelter had been horrific but he'd had to do it if he'd wanted to see his sister and mother again. When he thought about reaching for another needle, for that last hit, he remembered his mother crying as his dad threw him out, called him a Junkie and disowned him.

Would Dad think his war hero son being a Junkie was better or worse than being a Faggot?

Jason dropped his arm on his abdomen and looked at Christian once more, sound asleep and at peace after what had been a bloody wonderful shag. Jason couldn't deny how attracted he was to this man but what scared him was where this was headed. With Elena in custody and being investigated for the abusive messages Christian was receiving there would soon be no need for a bodyguard and Jason would soon need to leave. And that was a painful thought. So painful that Jason found himself looking at his arm once more and sighing.

He'd been clean most of his adult life, the military had provided Jason with a purpose and a more stable environment than he'd had at home, which said everything when he found himself being shot at on a daily basis. When he left the Corps, however, he'd slipped up when his doctor prescribed him Xanax to help with his insomnia and anxieties. His wife had been the one to take him to the doctors, worried for Jason's mental health coming out of the Marine Corps. It seemed fitting that she was the one who also called the ambulance when Jason had taken 20 tablets before scoring smack. Stupid, stupid man. And here he was, looking at his arm for fucking injection sites because he was too scared and anxious to admit to himself that he liked Christian. He really liked Christian. And he wanted him; more than he'd wanted any woman in his whole life. The thought of losing that made him feel sick.

Slowly, Jason sat up and slipped off the bed, grabbing his underwear from the floor and pulling them on. With a second glance back at Christian, he headed through to the foyer. He cracked his back and neck as he walked, helping himself to a glass of orange juice as he thought more about leaving Christian once this job was done and closed, moving on to the next job god knows where, trying to see his daughter maybe even visiting his parents and checking in on them.

He carried his glass of orange juice over to Christian's piano and took a seat, lifting the fallboard up delicately and examining the cold, ivory keys. Growing up Jason had always had a passion for music, he remembered his kindly kindergarten teacher telling him that he'd a natural beat and rhythm when he'd opted to dance with his twin, Sophia, during playtime than play with the other boys his age. This had sparked massive issues for Jason's conservative family. His father had been incredibly displeased to hear that Jason was artistic and musical.

" _What good'll music do for him, Mary? Might as well call him Elton John now and be done with it. No. Not my son."_

What his father hadn't appreciated was that music was therapeutic. The sheltered housing he'd ended up living in as a young man had a broken, out of tune piano donated by some old couple who'd been downsizing properties. It was the first time he'd felt allowed to play an instrument and it had felt right. It played like shit but it felt so amazing to sit there, high as fuck and just do something. Getting clean off the smack, Jason would focus on making up little songs on the shelter piano when he wasn't too dopesick. It wasn't until he was in the army that he got to try out a working keyboard and he found he was able to play music he heard on the radio. He wasn't good, but his team could identify what he was trying to play.

Christian's piano was like its owner; utter perfection and beautiful. Tentatively, Jason pressed down on a D chord, the sound echoing in the air, as though it were dancing. He felt it deep down in the pit of his stomach, his left hand pressing down gently on the ivories next.

Slowly, he began to play a simple melody and soon he felt the choking anxiety of his imminent future evaporate; it was just him and the piano, there was no one else around him. There was no ex wife and daughter to worry about, his parents scolding words and conservative words didn't bother him, he wasn't in a sexual relationship with his client let alone in a sexual relationship with a man to whom he was experiencing feelings beyond lust. It was just him and this piano.

"Good times, for a change," Jason mumbled, humming along to the sound the keys made under his fingers, "See the luck I've had would make-"

Suddenly, Jason heard the bedroom door close and the distinct sound of sweaty feet tapping on the cold marble approaching him. He froze up and stopped playing, tucking his hands under his thighs and staring down at the keys in silence.

"You play beautifully," Christian whispered softly, laying a hand on his bare shoulder, "Were you classically trained?" He obviously noticed Jason's cocked smirk and laughed softly, "Stupid question, sorry."

"Are you classically trained?" Jason asked, looking up at Christian before laughing also at his thin smile, "Of course you have."

"Grade eight, with distinction," Christian admitted, sitting on the bench beside Jason, "I could play piano before I could talk. Music's very therapeutic that way to me."

"…same," Jason nodded, watching as Christian's hand quickly played out a melody similar to the one Jason had been playing, "How often do you play?"

"Before you came into my life, every morning when I couldn't sleep. When you moved in I didn't want to wake you," Christian admitted, still playing as he spoke, demonstrating to Jason his sheer talent. He was envious of Christian suddenly, wishing he had been given the opportunity to explore a pleasure he'd been denied because his father deemed it 'fruity'.

"Come on," Christian encouraged, "I know what you were playing."

"Yeah?" Jason frowned, looking into his grey eyes.

"Yes," Christian nodded firmly, looking down at the keys now as he played once more, "Good times for a change. See the luck I've had could make a good man turn bad. So please, please please, let me get what I want this time."

Jason sighed and turned back to the keys, watching Christian's expert fingers dancing before him. They looked like they belonged there, long and thin and working with ease to produce such a beautiful sound. And his voice…geez was there anything this man couldn't do?

Christian's eyes found Jason's and he silently encouraged Jason to join in, no doubt sensing that he needed this connection, that he needed reassurance that things would get better.

Jason took a breath and cleared before joining Christian, his hand clumsier and slower that his but Christian adapted for him. "Haven't had a dream in a long time," Jason mumbled lowly, his voice rougher and croaky compared to Christian's perfection, "See the life I've had, could make a good man turn bad. So, for once in my life let me get what I want. Lord knows, it would be the first time."


	38. Chapter 38

**WARNING; Rated M for future m/m and adult themes, this is not going to be a CG/Ana fic. It will be a CG/Taylor**

 **Chapter 38;**

Taylor had fallen asleep beside Christian on the piano bench whilst Christian had played him a few pieces of music. He could tell something was on the bodyguard's mind but he knew from his own personal experiences with intrusive thoughts, not to press someone to discuss something they were not comfortable with. Taylor was tight-lipped at the best of times, Christian was positive he would not talk about anything that was troubling him.

Last night, Christian had seen a different side to Taylor all together. He'd been softer, less sharp edged and perhaps a little deflated by everything going on with them, with the case, with his future. Listening to him play the piano and sing off-key had really resonated with Christian and he'd loved it. The man had momentarily let his guard down and Christian had felt privileged to have witnessed it.

He'd kissed Taylor awake before leading him by the hand back to the bedroom where they had embraced, nothing more and yet it felt more intimate than any sex Christian had had in his whole life. As they'd laid on the bed, Taylor had taken Christian's hand and pulled him in for a cuddle, Taylor's massive body curled up small and wrapped up protectively in Christian's arms. It was yet another first for Christian; the first time he had really enjoyed cuddling someone so close to his scarred chest. He did not flinch, he did not hesitate; he just cuddled up tight into the back of Taylor's body.

In the morning, they didn't talk much which wasn't uncommon for Taylor but for some reason this morning it felt different. Taylor was distant and in thought; making good use of the pull-up bar he'd installed over the door threshold of the spare room he'd once slept in. Christian watched him briefly before he went through to look at some of the reports he'd been sent from GEH. Whilst sat on his sofa with his Tablet and coffee, Taylor's mobile phone began to ring. He jumped down from the bar and pulled it from his grey sweatpants, answering quickly.

"Sophie?" His expression softened and a hint of a smile finally graced his lips. He turned and headed into the spare room to speak to his little daughter in privacy, out of Christian's ear shot. He hoped that a chat with his youngster would be enough to bring him out of the funk he appeared to be trapped within this morning.

When he returned to the main foyer, there was a noticeable jump in his step however when Christian went to ask him how Sophie was, his own mobile went off.

"Mom?" he asked, putting the tablet down.

"Christian, are you home?" Grace replied quickly and with a hint of panic in her tone, "I'm just coming to Escala now. Elena's called me; did you know she's in police custody? What's going on, Christian?"

Christian felt the whole world shake and the walls around him closing in and entrapping him. He swallowed back the lump in his throat. Elena had been the one sending him death threats…he still couldn't get his head over why she would want to harm him like that. He'd tried thinking about the 'whys' but he was honestly unable to understand any possible motive behind it, other than to keep him silent about her alternative lifestyle and their involvement together at one point. Was that it?

"Christian?" Grace called once more, sounding worried. Christian realised he'd tuned out of their conversation, "Christian I'm worried. She said you'd been getting death threats? What's going on?"

"Just come over, mom, I'll speak to you here. It's all under control," Christian said with a confidence that he sincerely didn't feel.

"I'll be two minutes. Are you alone? I don't want to intrude if you're…entertaining," Mom suddenly sounded doubtful and awkward. Christian felt his face going red; that was usually what she'd ask Elliot early in the morning, not him.

His eyes cast over to a shirtless, sweaty Taylor stood in his kitchen and he felt desire and arousal burn through his body, blitzing away any anxiety Christian had initially felt. His muscles were always so much more pronounced post-work out, the veins in his arms and neck pulsing and popping out against his skin. He'd a gleam of sweat glazing over his defined abs; the hair, which started off blonde by his pecs and gradually darkened towards the waistband of his sweatpants, was damp and clinging to his skin.

It was those grey sweatpants, however, which captivated Christian the most. The hung off his lean hips, the swell of his ass looking ridiculously good as he turned around to pull the carton of milk from the fridge. As he made to walk over to the television with the carton in hand, Christian was able to see a near perfect shot of Taylor's equipment.

"Christian?"

"Huh? Yeah, mom, sorry," Christian coughed, watching Taylor scandalously drinking from the carton, before wiping away the residue milk away from his mouth with the back of his hand. He burped against his fist before rummaging for breakfast, "Uhh, why don't you go get us coffee, mom? I've just realised I have no milk."

"Okay," Grace took a deep breath, as though calming down from the initial panic she'd experienced following Elena's phonecall, "Okay, I'll get us coffee. Do you want pancakes?"

"Pancakes?" Christian echoed, looking over at Taylor who'd ears appeared to perk at the mention of food; the man needed to take on board thousands of calories a day, he was literally eating Christian out of house and home. He nodded though, picking up the carton of milk and drinking it as he headed to the bedroom, "Sure mom, pancakes sound swell. Could you get me two lots? I have Taylor coming over this morning. He might want some," he lied.

"Okay, son," Grace called, and Christian could hear the smile in her voice as she added, "I love you."

"I love you too, mom. I'll see you soon and I'll explain everything," Christian replied, hanging up and going straight to the bedroom after Taylor, "Mom's coming over," he told his bodyguard who was stripping their bed to remove the evidence from last night's explicit activities.

"I gathered," Taylor nodded, looking up at Christian, "Do you want me to hide in the spare room?" he offered.

"No, I'm going to tell her you're my bodyguard today; she was Elena's one phone call this morning so…I think she needs to know the truth," Christian admitted, running his eyes over Taylor's topless body, "She'll probably be half an hour. Maybe forty depending on the queue for pancakes and traffic."

Taylor stopped what he was doing and looked across at Christian curiously, cocking that single eyebrow whilst the makings of a crooked smirk flirted in the corner of his lips, "Is that so?"

"Yes," Christian replied, pulling his polo shirt over his head, "It is."

Taylor rolled over the bed like a trooper, landing perfectly on his feet in front of Christian, his lips instantly crashing against Christian's own whilst his body pushed him up against the mirrored wall. Their hands began to feverishly grab, rub and grope each other, Christian taking tight hold of Taylor's balls through the material of his sweatpants.

"What can we do in half an hour?" Christian nearly purred, his eyes rolling back when Taylor bit and pulled on his lower lip.

"There's a lot we can do," Taylor growled lowly as Christian massaged his balls, "There's a lot I can do to you specifically," he added before unbuckling Christian's jeans and pulling them down his thighs in one forceful and efficient swoop, his cock and balls exposed to Taylor's wandering hands. Christian couldn't contain his sudden gasp when he felt Taylor's hot hand grab his cock and begin to jerk him off vigorously.

"You're so fucking hot when you moan like that," Taylor growled, nibbling and biting the junction of Christian's neck. He hadn't even realised he was moaning, his eyes rolling back in pleasure as Taylor continued to work his hand up and down his shaft in a rhythm which was proving too much, too soon; Christian was already close to cuming at the notion of having quickie sex with this beautifully rugged man.

Taylor let him go suddenly of him and Christian opened his eyes just in time to witness the most menacing yet arousing smirk he'd ever seen Taylor concoct. Christian couldn't help gulp a little, anticipation burning through his body like a flame.

"What are you up t-"Christian started before gasping again when Taylor spun him around quickly, towards the bed, and bending him over the mattress.

"This is mine," Taylor growled, slapping Christian's exposed ass before leaning forward and biting Christian's shoulder firmly. He started to grind himself against Christian's ass, dry humping him through his sweatpants before Christian felt him pull them down and rub against him, skin to skin.

"Yours?" Christian echoed in shock; he'd known Taylor for a few months now and in that time he'd never known the man to act so…dominant and sure of himself. It was seriously turning Christian on more than he'd have ever expected it would.

"Yes. Mine," Taylor growled, running his lips and tongue down Christian's spine, sinking to his knees in front of his ass. Christian jumped suddenly, Taylor biting his cheek playfully whilst his hand grabbing the other tightly. Christian groaned and began to palm his dick, spreading his legs a little when Taylor inserted two wet fingers to his ass.

"Remember there's no lube," Christian groaned, enjoying the combination of Taylor's fingers and his own hand.

"…shit," Taylor mumbled, hesitating for a second before he removed himself from Christian and walked to his bedside cabinet on the other side of the bed. _His bedside cabinet_ …Christian had to laugh; they each had a side of the bed already. God Christian hoped that would never ever stop.

"I'll use a condom," Taylor muttered.

"Works for me," Christian replied. He couldn't help enjoying the view; the man's body was completely solid muscle. His thighs were the size of a bull's, so beefy and thick, contributing to the man's amazing ass. Christian was surprised by how much he loved Taylor's body hair. He was fair haired, strawberry blonde he was sure though Taylor always kept his hair buzz cut tight, however his body hair was actually very dark. Across his chest was a dusting of fair curls however as his hair neared his naval and groin it became a lot darker which fascinated Christian.

Taylor picked up his tattered wallet and removed a foil square from within its folds, tearing it open with his teeth before sliding the condom down over his hard-on, with an expertise that Christian didn't really have. When he was with women, Christian hated condoms; they didn't feel anywhere as good as sex without and caused an interruption during activities. Plus they were fiddly as hell. So, whenever he'd taken on a Sub, he'd encouraged his partners to seek other methods of contraception which suited their arrangements. Christian was positive that Taylor nearly always used condoms, making him wonder if perhaps having a daughter had been a happy mistake for him.

Taylor turned to look back at Christian, slowly yanking his cock and bent over the bed waiting on Taylor's return. He grinned down at him, that sexy but infuriating crocked smirk making a damn appearance and causing Christian's heart to nearly flutter, "You look hot," Taylor winked, "I'd love that image as a screensaver."

"Just hurry up and fuck me." Christian demanded, kicking off the rest of his jeans before climbing up onto the bed towards him. He blew Taylor a playful kiss before turning around on all fours and exposing his ass to the man once again.

Taylor growled behind Christian, Christian feeling the weight of his body cause the mattress to dip as he climbed up onto the bed too. He palmed Christian's ass with confidence, biting his ass cheek again. The amount of biting this guy seemed to do was unreal, but Christian would be damned if he ever wanted him to stop it; it felt too good, too primal. Taylor went on to kiss Christian's ass with confidence before spreading his cheeks and-

"Did you just spit on my asshole?" Christian frowned, looking back over his shoulder at Taylor curiously.

"I'll be honest, I don't think I can do what you did last night to me. I'm sorry," Taylor admitted, rubbing his saliva into Christian's ass with his thumb, "The rim job thing. Not that I don't appreciate you giving me one. It's just, I don't know," he shrugged, "I'm not…there yet."

"That's fine," Christian laughed, smiling at the man behind him, "I just didn't realise you'd spit on me instead. That's kinda hot," he encouraged, seeing Taylor's confidence return as he got himself into position and slowly began to enter him. Christian groaned and winced, wishing they'd a little more lubrication than saliva and a condom but he gritted his teeth through the sting until he adjusted to Taylor's girth.

"You feel tight," Taylor murmured, leaning over and biting Christian again, this time on the earlobe, "Your ass feels fucking fantastic," he added, "I'm going to fuck it raw."

Christian shuddered, his words licking his ear and causing a chill to run down his spine. He felt Taylor straighten up, his hips rolling hard against his ass and hitting him deeply with each thrust. His wide, strong fingers grabbed Christian's neck and held it firmly to stable himself as he thrust harder. Christian's eyes rolled back with each thrust; Taylor hitting the most delicious spot.

"Fuck, Christian," Taylor snapped, the bed rocking and creaking under the weight and force of Taylor's rhythm, Christian's hand working his cock. He'd been close before they'd gotten to this stage but now, fuck. Christian caught sight of them both in the mirror, Taylor's massive body fucking Christian hard and fast.

"I'm close," Christian growled back, Taylor's hold on his neck the only thing keeping him up right as he was fucked hard, "Keep guh-oh shit, keep going."

Taylor's arm suddenly snaked around Christian's throat and he was able to pull him upright out of doggy position, until he was sitting up straddled against Taylor's thighs. Christian was able to turn his head to kiss Taylor's lips, taking control now as he rode Taylor's cock whilst Taylor stroke Christian's frantically with one hand, the other pinning Christian against Taylor's body and steadying him.

Taylor's breathing became ragged and out of sync in Christian's ear, his eyes closing as he started to groan, "That's it, that's it," he panted, "Fuck me, Christian," he ordered, thrusting up against Christian's ass.

"Keep going," Christian heard himself begging as Taylor's hand continued to work his shaft harder, "Keep going, shit I'm so close, Jason, faster,"

"I'm going to cum, shit, urgh," Taylor gasped, Christian able to feel his dick pulse within him as he ejaculated and came to a shivering halt. He panted and huffed, lazily kissing Christian's neck as he thrust slower now, quaking at the impact of his orgasm.

Christian felt Taylor slump a little against Christian, panting softly as both his hands embraced Christian tightly. It took a few moments for Taylor to realise he'd left Christian at full mast, teetering on the edge of his own mind blowing orgasm.

"Shit, sorry," he mumbled, tugging Christian's shaft once more, "Didn't mean to leave you hanging there," he mumbled, lightly kissing Christian's shoulder, "You smell so good," he muttered, "I love whatever scent your wearing."

Christian didn't need much more than a few tugs and Taylor whispering in his ear. He leant against Taylor's hard body, letting him jack him off until he came on the messy bedspread. He was gasping and shuddering against Taylor when the home intercom went off meaning they'd a visitor in reception.

"Well timed," Christian winced as Taylor slid out of him, the pair clumsily making it off the bed, "Fuck."

"I'll get the phone," Taylor offered, pulling off the condom with a wince and chucking it in the bin in the bathroom. He quickly washed his hand before running through to answer it. Christian took the opportunity to quickly baby wipe himself, splashing cold water on his face before hurriedly dressing.

He was stood in the foyer just when the elevator began to move. Taylor hurried over to Christian, grabbing his head and pulling him in for a deep, tongue-ful kiss, "I'll shower," he muttered then smirked When Christian slapped his naked ass. He kissed him again, unable, it seemed, to get enough of Christian this morning now that he was in a better mood.

He was able to scurry away unseen to the bedroom just as the doors opened and Grace stormed into Escala.

Christian hadn't realised how worried Grace was until she entered Escala, carrying coffees and pancakes. Usually she was always well dressed and presented, a glamorous woman considering her age. Today, however, her usually impeccable hair was scrapped back into a messy ponytail, her face devoid of the usual makeup and looking rather aged. She'd obviously received the phonecall from Elena and ran straight to him to find out the truth.

"Oh Christian," she gasped, dropping breakfast on the kitchen bar before wrapping her arms around his neck tightly and pulling him down into her embrace.

Christian, initially shocked by her obvious relief, slowly brought his arms around her waist and squeezed, "I'm okay, mom, it's all okay now."

"What happened?" Grace asked firmly, stepping out of his embrace and studying his face closely. Grace was perhaps the only person in the entire world who Christian was unable to lie from. She called it a mother's intuition; she knew whenever he, Mia or Elliot weren't telling the truth.

"I've been receiving death threats for the past few months now," Christian explained with a shrug, "I've took precautions when things became severe. Like hiring a Bodyguard," he admitted, seeing Grace's eyebrows shoot up through the ceiling and her jaw drop to the neighbour's floor.

"A…a buh-you needed a bodyguard?" Grace gasped, anger flaring in her eyes, "Why didn't you ever say something!"

"I never wanted you to worry," Christian explained, scratching the back of his neck, "I was handling it."

"Christian…never, ever keep secrets like that from the people you love; you're not protecting us. You're making yourself more vulnerable," Grace stated, shaking her head in disbelief, "And Elena was the one who was threatening you? Because she called me from police custody just over an hour ago saying she was innocent."

"I think forensic found evidence to suggest that she'd used paper from the salon," Christian replied, "I think it had chemicals on it, plus her DNA. Taylor's been the one relaying with the police for me; he understands it better and it means I can focus on the company."

"Taylor? Jason Taylor?" Grace frowned, her face screwing up in confusion, "What does he have to do with this?"

Christian laughed, which in hindsight was not the most appropriate thing to do considering how angry his mother was at him for not letting her know that any of this had been going on, "Taylor's my bodyguard, mom. I hired him."

Her expression was unreadable to Christian. Overall she seemed as though she was shocked, but also there seemed to be a glimmer of disappointment, as though she were unhappy to hear that his and Taylor's relationship was a professional one and not one through friendship. Not that they were very good at keeping it professional now, Christian mused, smirking as he recalled Taylor's dirty talk in his ear half an hour ago. He could still smell the man on his skin, that musky old fashioned all-male cologne he favoured. Old Spice, if Christian wasn't mistaken; his Grandfather used to wear it.

"So I don't need to find a priest that does gay weddings then?" Grace finally said with a reluctant sigh.

Christian nearly choked on his coffee, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, "Mom?!" he exclaimed with a gasping laugh, shaking his head as he cleared his throat, "Seriously, mom?"

"What, Christian?" Grace exclaimed, "Mia and I have all been of the belief you and Taylor were more than…well more than friends. Your father and Michael believed he was security but we told them both that they were wrong. We genuinely believed you were gay. You just seem so in sync with each other. I'm…well, I'm a little disappointed that it's just professional, Christian. For your benefit. I see the way you two interact and I can see how much happier you've been these last few months since you've known him."

Christian had to look away or Grace would see completely through him with those all-seeing mother eyes. He couldn't talk to her about this. Not yet when he didn't even know himself what he and Taylor were doing or what the future held for them both.

"Taylor is my bodyguard," he said firmly, shutting down this specific aspect of the conversation by turning his back on his mother and heading for plates for breakfast, "He's actually in the shower right now."

"He's here?" Grace frowned, "At this time of the morning?"

"He's a live-in bodyguard," Christian explained, "He's been living in the spare room," looking up when Taylor came out wearing his black combats and a white t-shirt, "In fact there he is."

"Mrs Grey," Taylor nodded politely, "How are you this morning?"

"Hello, Jason," Grace replied with a sad smile, Christian realising how truly disappointed she was to hear that Taylor wasn't a romantic interest to him, "I brought pancakes and coffee."

"Thank you, ma'am," Taylor replied before looking at Christian, "They have enough evidence against Elena to remand her in custody, Sir."

"Good," Christian stated, shaking his head, "I still can't believe she would do this to me."

"I understand, Sir," Taylor nodded, "However, until we get a formal conviction and are absolutely certain it is her, we cannot drop current security levels."

Grace frowned and looked up at Taylor with a curious expression. She wasn't used to him talking all formally towards Christian, in fact Christian wasn't used to it either, the only time he tended to 'Sir' him was in the bedroom.

Suddenly, Grace began to laugh at the larger man, making Taylor's eyebrow arch, "Is there something funny, ma'am?"

"I knew you weren't Christian's PA," Grace laughed, smiling up at him, "You're the least subtle looking Personal Assistant I've ever seen," she explained before adding, "I actually thought you were Christian's boyfriend until he told me this morning that you were a CPO like our Michael."

"Mother!" Christian snapped in disbelief, looking at Taylor apologetically as Grace studied his face for any truth in her suspicions, knowing full well that Christian was hiding something.

Taylor, however, was well trained in interrogation skills. He held her gaze, displaying the right amount of straight-man disgust at the notion of same sex sodomy, as well as a slither of genuine disbelief.

"I'm straight, Mrs Grey," he said firmly, before averting his eyes towards Christian. He picked up his coffee and slowly added, "Besides, if I were gay, I'd like to think I could do better."

Grace gasped at the audacity that someone would badmouth one of her children, Christian grinned behind his mother's back as Taylor's words completely threw cold water over any speculation that they were together.

"Are we going into the office today, Mr Grey?" Taylor went on to ask.

"No, Taylor," Christian smiled, "I have something planned later if the weather holds."

"It's forecast to be a warm day," Grace warned, "If you're going anywhere, I want you both wearing suncream."

"Yes, ma'am," Taylor and Christian said in unison.

"Good. Now, are you boys wanting pancakes? I'm starving now," Grace replied, getting up and going around the breakfast bar to find the plates. Thankfully, Taylor had emptied the dishwasher this morning; Christian didn't need his mother moaning at him for her chores too, "Jason, I got you a sachet of tomato sauce."

"Perfect, ma'am," Taylor replied, grabbing Christian's ass playfully from behind the shield of the breakfast bar.


End file.
